


With All My Heart

by My Fandom Life (satisfied_with_tranquillity)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Death, F/M, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, derek's so far in the closet he's in narnia, hate crime and slavery mentioned as backstory for minor characters, little women - Freeform, other pairings happen for stiles and derek...not saying which though due to spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2837411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satisfied_with_tranquillity/pseuds/My%20Fandom%20Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside the sleepy town of Beacon Hills reside the Hale siblings: ambitious Laura, practical Derek, determined Cora, and beautiful Malia. With their father off fighting in the Civil War, Derek is seen as the “man of the family,” which is why he does his best to ignore his growing feelings for their new neighbor. But Stiles is difficult to ignore, and Derek must soon decide whether to behave as society deems as proper…or to follow his heart. Based on Louisa May Alcott’s, <i>Little Women.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Face In Town

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely based on the book, _Little Women_ (well, more so off the 1994 movie version of the book). I switched up some of the siblings’ storylines so that they fit the canon universe of Teen Wolf. Historical notes and glossary of terms will be at the end.
> 
> **Special thanks to my beta,[Melodi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodi_Ann_Murrey_626)!**

_Beacon Hills, CA 1864_

“You’ll never believe what I just saw,” Cora Hale shouted as she burst into the kitchen of Orchard House, the Hales’ family home.

“Cora, remember, ladies never shout,” their housekeeper, Jennifer, reminded her as she helped Cora remove her coat. Laura Hale gave a very unladylike snort from the corner of the room where she was studying anatomy.

Their mother, whom the children fondly referred to as Marmee, walked into the kitchen. She gave her second eldest, Derek, a kiss on his head as she passed where he sat at the table. Taking pity on her third child, she said, “Well, Cora what is this news?”

“I just saw a carriage pull up to the sheriff’s house. It was filled to the brim with luggage, and a young man got out of it. And would you believe, the sheriff hugged him!”

“The sheriff wouldn’t know how,” said Malia, the youngest of the family.

Malia was technically a cousin. Her father had arrived at Orchard House when Malia was just a babe and thrust her into his sister’s arms. He’d stated his wife had left him (it was news to everyone that Peter was even married) and he couldn’t raise a little girl on his own. Talia had taken one look at the child and fallen in love. From that day forth, Talia looked upon her as a daughter.

“Malia, you shouldn’t say such things,” their mother admonished.

“You have to admit, the sheriff isn’t the warmest of people,” Laura said, not looking up from her book.

“The sheriff is a kind man,” Talia said. “He was very much in love with his wife and was devastated when she died.” Derek watched his mother peek out the window. “That must be his son, Stiles.”

“Stiles?” Derek said, his lips twisting at the strange name.

“His mother named him after her Polish father but no one could say the name. The sheriff decided that it would be kinder for everyone to give his son a shortened version of the name, hence the nickname. After Claudia died, Stiles was sent to Europe to live with his maternal grandmother. I heard she recently passed away so the sheriff sent for him.” Talia turned around and smiled fondly at her son. “You should reintroduce yourself to him.”

Derek’s forehead furrowed. “Have I ever met him before?”

“Mhmm. He’s a year younger than you. From the moment he could take his first steps, he was attached to your side,” Talia replied before laughing lightly. “Oh, the trouble you boys caused us. Claudia used to say it was either a blessing or a curse that you got on so well. He moved away when he was two and I can still remember how upset you were.”

“I remember, too,” Laura said, lifting her head up from her book to smirk at her brother. “You cried for a week.”

“I did not,” Derek responded, his ears heating.

“Laura, stop teasing your brother,” their mother said before grinning. “And it wasn’t a week. More like two days.”

Cora and Malia giggled as Derek scowled. Talia came over and squeezed her son’s shoulder in silent apology before reaching for the basket Jennifer had set on the table.

“Is this everything?” she asked as she began to sort through the different jars of food inside the wicker.

“Yes ma’am,” Jennifer said, wiping her hands on her apron before turning to Derek. “Are you still planning on our dancing lesson today?”

Derek groaned. He hated those blasted lessons. He seemed to have been born with two left feet and couldn’t dance to save himself, no matter how patient of a teacher Jennifer was.

Laura slammed her book shut with an air of disgust. “Why must we keep subjecting ourselves to dance lessons?”

“Don’t you ever want to make a good match?” Jennifer asked, her voice tired as the two rehashed the same argument they had every week.

“Marriage will not help me attain my goal of becoming California’s first female doctor. A husband would do nothing but crush my ambition as fast as he could.”

“Or he would support it,” Jennifer argued. “A married woman gets farther ahead than a single woman. Men are less threatened by a woman in power if they know a good man is by her side.”

“I wouldn’t want my girls getting married to further their careers,” Marmee replied dryly.

“All I’m saying,” Jennifer said, “Is that Cora and Laura shouldn’t be so quick to turn down prospects. Look at Malia! There’s a line down the street to court her and she’s only fourteen.”

“But as I have no intention of marrying a pauper,” Malia interjected, “It’s unlikely that I’ll ever marry anyone from Beacon Hills.”

Jennifer threw her hands in the air with disgust. “When I was Malia’s age, I was already engaged.”

“I have no intention of getting married so young,” Cora replied indignantly.

“Sixteen is hardly young, miss,” Jennifer said as she grabbed Talia’s coat from the rack and handed it to her.

“Yes, well, getting married so young didn’t benefit you,” Cora snapped and the kitchen went quiet.

Jennifer had come to the Hale family a poor widow, having lost her husband in the Battle of Antietam. Talia’s own husband was currently fighting in the war and she had welcomed Jennifer into their fold. In over a year, Jennifer had the household running like a well oiled machine, leaving Talia the freedom to volunteer her time to her causes. Jennifer had been a part of their family ever since.

“Cora,” Talia said sternly. “You apologize to Jennifer this instant.”

“I’m sorry,” Cora said looking sick with shame. “I should never have said that.”

“It’s fine, miss,” Jennifer answered though she didn’t meet her eyes. 

Derek arose from the table. “Jennifer, I believe I’d like to have my dance lesson now, if that’s all right. I suppose I need all the practice I can get before the ball this Saturday.”

Jennifer smiled at the handsome young man who reminded her so much of her Thomas. She nodded and began to remove her apron.

Talia looked at the dirty breakfast dishes and said, “Cora, you can clean up.”

Cora opened her mouth to protest but quickly shut it at their mother’s glare. Talia glanced at Laura and added, “I’m going to drop this basket off at the Hummels and then head to Dr. Deaton’s to pick up some items he donated for the ball. Do you want to come?”

At the mention of the doctor, Laura was on her feet. She liked to spend as much time at the clinic as was permissible, absorbing everything she could. She raced up the stairs to grab her hat out of her room. Jennifer shook her head and muttered something about nineteen year old spinsters. Derek went into the sitting room and moved a table and chair out of the way. Malia sat down at the piano and began to play something slightly off key. They could hear Cora slamming dishes in the other room and the two grinned at each other.

While Malia played the piano decent enough, Cora was the true musician of the family. People from around town would stop in to hear her play. Malia’s gift was drawing, but she still liked to play the piano if nothing more than to annoy Cora. No one was allowed to touch Cora’s piano while she was within hearing. Derek faced Jennifer as she walked into the room and gave a proper bow. She responded with a curtsey and the two joined hands and began to waltz.

“What about you, sir?” Jennifer questioned as they moved, interrupting the counting Derek was doing in his head.

“What do you mean?” he asked in confusion.

“Any young females you have your cap set to?”

“Not really,” he grunted.

“What about Kate Argent?”

“It’d be more enjoyable to court a grizzly bear,” Derek grumbled and Jennifer laughed.

“Well, she certainly has taken a liking to you,” Jennifer said. “The town is abuzz with it.”

“Gossips, every one of them.”

“So there’s no one who has caught your eye,” she teased.

“Not yet,” he replied. “But I’m only eighteen. Hardly a spinster.”

Jennifer just laughed and shook her head. Derek looked down at her fondly and thought not for the first time how lovely she was. Not in a way that he’d want to court her. Firstly, she was five and twenty years of age—far too old for him. Secondly, he just didn’t see her in a romantic light. She was more like a loveable family member. It saddened him to think how closed off she was to the idea of romance for herself, despite how much she heckled his sisters. But as she once told him, she’d already had the great love of her life. It would be unfair to accept the attentions of any other man when her heart wasn’t in it. And thirdly…well, he didn’t want to think about the third reason.

They practiced for the next hour and Derek was proud that he only managed to step on her foot twice. By then, Cora had finished with the dishes and had taken over the piano playing. Derek finally pleaded exhaustion and Malia stepped in, wanting to learn everything she could.

Out of all the Hales, Malia was the one who cared most about society’s opinion. She was determined to be a true lady so that she could find a match and get married. She had an unhealthy need to be accepted.

Though the Hales treated her as one of their own, Malia didn’t always feel that way. She was reminded every time she received a package from Peter, filled to the brim with the finest materials for dresses and hair jewelry. It was Peter’s way of making up for being an absentee father. And despite how loved she was by her aunt’s family, she was aware of what the townsfolk said behind her back. They knew almost as certainly as Malia did that her father wasn’t married at the time she was born.

From a conversation she’d overheard once between Talia and Malia’s adopted father, Peter had a fling with some European artist. When the woman gave birth to Malia, she dumped the baby into Peter’s arms and returned to her home country. And Peter, in turn, had given her away as soon as he could. The circumstances of Malia’s birth made her even more determined to never give the small minded people of Beacon Hills a chance to judge her. She worked hard on being the very example of what a well bred woman should be. And someday, she would marry a disgustingly rich man and make them all eat their hateful words.     

Derek made his way into the kitchen for something cool to drink. As he went to the water sprout and pumped water into his glass, he glanced out the window toward the Stilinski house. He could see the sheriff and the local fire marshal unloading a heavy box from the carriage. A young man with unruly brown hair stood nearby with a hand clasped to the back of his neck as if he were waiting to assist if needed. He was tall and lithe, the sleeve of his shirt doing little to hide the strong muscle underneath the thin material. As though he felt eyes on him, he dropped his arm and turned to look at the Hale house. Derek jerked away from the window and hid out of sight, his heart galloping strangely.

_Too much dancing_ , Derek thought, even as he pressed a hand to his chest.


	2. The Boy Behind The Curtain

Derek moved his neck and felt it click in sweet relief as he left his Aunt Josephine’s house. He helped support his family by being his aunt’s companion, reading to her for hours on end and getting her food when she was hungry. It was incredibly dull, but as she was elderly she had a tendency to drift off to sleep, which gave Derek plenty of time to work on his greatest passion; writing. His mind was currently racing with a new story idea as he made his way to Orchard House.

As he passed the Stilinski home, he could hear piano music playing loudly from inside. Not for the first time he wondered about the boy behind the drawn curtains of the sheriff’s house. Stiles had been home for almost a week, and with the exception of the music they could occasionally hear, they had no other evidence the boy was alive.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Laura said from the chaise lounge she was sitting in, a calculus book in her lap. She was taking college classes by correspondence. When Derek looked at her in confusion, she nodded toward the Stilinski house. “His musical ability rivals Cora’s.”

“Don’t tell Cora that,” Derek said as he sat down in the chair next to his sister. He stared at the home across the way and felt his body relax as he listened to the melody.

“I wonder what he’s like,” Laura said. “According to the town gossips he was raised by gypsies.”

Derek snorted as he stretched out his legs. “Is that what they’re saying?”

“It’s a small town. There’s little else to discuss,” Laura said with a shrug. “Apparently, Malia’s already taken an interest with him.”

Derek felt his good mood evaporate. “She would.”

He didn’t look at Laura but he could feel her eyes on him. The silence between them bordered on awkward before Laura finally asked, “How was Aunt Josephine?”

“Cantankerous as always,” Derek replied and Laura laughed. While he loved Cora and Malia, he’d always felt closest to Laura.  He nudged her knee. “Are you ready for the ball tonight?”

“Please don’t remind me,” Laura said, a scowl forming on her face. “If Jennifer has her way, I’ll be dressed like stuck pig being brought out for the feast.”  She sighed. “Why couldn’t I have been born a man? You are so very lucky. You can have the freedom to do whatever you want.”

Derek looked at the Stilinski home. The house had gone quiet and he had the strangest feeling he was being observed. He got up from his chair and cricked his neck again.

“I suppose I should see what Jennifer and Malia have planned for me to wear tonight.”

Laura nodded and went back to her studying. Derek made his way indoors and grabbed an apple off the table, eating it before he went up to his room. Ignoring the dress clothes laid out on his bed, Derek grabbed some fresh parchment off his desk, and made his way up to the attic where his writing table waited. He sat down, grabbed his nib pen, and dabbed it in the ink bottle before letting the pen hover aimlessly over his paper. From where he was sitting, he could still see a corner of the Stilinski house. He reflected on what Laura said and felt sad. He didn’t feel very free.

When Jennifer asked him if any women had caught his eye, he hadn’t lied when he said no one had. The truth was no woman had ever captured Derek’s interest, to his ever loving shame. There’d only ever been one person Derek felt attracted to, and his feelings for said person were so disgusting and unnatural, he never told anyone about it.

When Derek was a young teen, his father had opened a school. Anyone, regardless of their sex or skin color, could attend. Needless to say, that kind of forward thinking hadn’t resounded well throughout the community and the school closed after only a year, but it was during that year Derek met Boyd.

Boyd and his family had escaped slavery and settled for a brief time in Beacon Hills. Despite his upbringing, Boyd already knew how to read and write; a rarity among slaves. He’d been Derek’s age, but he was at least a foot taller with toned muscles that reflected the harsh life he’d led. Boyd and Derek became good friends and Derek soon found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss Boyd like he occasionally saw his father and Marmee do.

One day Derek finally plucked up the courage and asked Boyd if it was possible for boys to feel deep affection for one another. He wanted to tell Boyd how he felt, but Boyd had flinched away from him like he was diseased. He told Derek the story about two men like that on the plantation; how they’d been caught together and forced to “perform” in front of their owners. After they were through, they were whipped and hung for their sins. Boyd said it was because the men were abominations. Derek never brought up the subject again. Shortly after that, the school closed and Boyd and his family moved away.

Clearing his mind of the past, Derek focused on the new story idea he’d come up with. He began to write, his mind overflowing with details. He was interrupted a few hours later by Malia.

“Derek Hale, as I live and breathe,” she said, stamping her foot. “We are to leave in an hour and you have ink all over your hand. Go get clean this instant.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yes mother.”

He got up and kissed Malia on the head before he made his way downstairs to get cleaned up and changed. An hour later, the Hales were in their carriage on their way to the charity ball. They were greeted warmly by their mother and Mrs. Martin. Once the dancing began, Derek did an obligatory turn with each of his sisters before finding a nice corner to stand in. He watched Laura waltz by with Chris Argent. Chris was a widower and quite well off thanks to the hunting lodge he owned. He’d make a good match for his sister if she was ever interested. Laura kept up a light conversation with her partner, but as soon as she made eye contact with Derek, she nodded to the other end of the room.

Derek followed her gaze and said a word his mother would box his ears for if she ever found out. Chris’ sister, Kate, was scanning the room like a predator looking for its prey. As soon as she made eye contact with Derek, her face slithered into a smile and she started making her way toward him.

Derek did his best to pretend he didn’t see her as he began to scoot along the wall until he reached the curtained door leading to the patio outside. Not looking where he was going, he took a step back. His foot caught on something at the same time a sturdy object behind him let out a yelp. Derek lost his balance and grabbed onto what had startled him, which turned out to be a young man. They went careening to the floor, landing in a pile of limbs.

“Damnation,” the boy said as Derek tried to untangle himself. The curse word shocked him still as he met amber eyes. Recognition dawned on him as he stared into the face of his new neighbor.

“Sorry, I forgot how conservative the language is in the States,” the other man said as he sat up with a wince. Smiling at Derek, he added, “I believe we’re neighbors. Stiles Stilinski’s the name.”

He extended his hand and Derek shook it before standing up and brushing the dirt off his jacket. He tried not to notice how close Stiles was as he also got to his feet. Nor did he want to notice how Stiles smelled a bit like apple blossoms.

“You have a name or should I just refer to you as the Hale boy?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, it’s Derek. Derek Hale.”

Stiles smiled and Derek had the sneaking suspicion Stiles already knew who he was.  

“So tell me, Derek Hale. What or who were you trying to escape from?”

He was reminded of Kate and hid behind the curtain again. He peeked through the open door and found she had latched onto another eligible bachelor and was currently dancing the jig, though she didn’t look too happy about it. Derek breathed a sigh of relief at his temporary reprieve. He then realized Stiles was still staring at him.

“The blond girl, huh? Not your type?”

“Not unless I want my blood sucked from my body while I sleep,” Derek muttered and Stiles burst out laughing. It caused him to remember that he was in a stranger’s company. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Stiles waved the apology away. “What’s a little open honesty between friends?”

“What were you doing?” Derek asked curiously.

“Watching you,” Stiles replied frankly and Derek’s eyebrows rose. “You were moving around like a piece on a chessboard. It’s been quite entertaining.”

“I’m glad I could amuse you,” Derek said stiffly.

“Oh, you have. You and your sisters,” he said, nodding as Malia danced by with a beau who was staring at her, completely enraptured. “She’s awfully pretty.”

“She’s adopted,” Derek blurted before cringing. Why on earth had he mentioned that? The circumstances of Malia’s birth made her no less of a sister to him. “I mean, she’s my cousin, but we all think of each other as siblings.”

“Beautiful family,” Stiles said almost to himself before he straightened away from the door and walked to the other side of the patio. He leaned against the brick railing with his head thrown back as if he were soaking up the moonlight.

“Were you really raised by gypsies?” Derek asked before closing his eyes in disgust. What was wrong with him tonight? That question wasn’t proper in any way, shape, or form.

Stiles stared at him in amusement. “Is that what people are saying?”

“You are a mystery,” Derek replied as he made his way over to where Stiles was standing.

 “Well, I’m sorry to disappointment the good folk of Beacon Hills, but I was not raised a transient. I grew up in France, living in the quiet squander of my grandmother’s chateau.”

“A chateau?” Derek asked.

“I guess you Americans would consider it a small palace but yes. Though a gypsy lifestyle would have been much more entertaining.”

“Beacon Hills must be quite a change from France.”

“It is, but…” Stiles frowned before confessing, “I’m glad to get know my father again. Letters exchanged don’t equal being in the presence of the man.”

Derek nodded thinking of his own father. He worried about him every day. Receiving a letter always brought swift relief because at least the family knew he was still alive sometime during the last few months. But the _not_ knowing was the worst.

“What about you?” Stiles asked.

“What do you mean?” Derek wondered warily.

“They say the Hales used to be one of the most prominent families in Beacon Hills, but your father blew his inheritance on a dream.”

“My father is an idealist,” Derek said angrily. “He created a school where all children could attend, no matter the color of their skin or gender. But people objected and the school closed. He’s a great man who believes in treating people equally. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“Hey,” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s arm to stop him from leaving. “I didn’t say I thought poorly of your family. I was simply repeating gossip. The truth is I admire what your father did. I don’t believe people should be treated inhumanely simply because they’re different than you.”

Derek felt the heat of Stiles’ hand on his arm and stared at it for a moment. The air felt heavy and when he looked up, he found he couldn’t quite look away from his intriguing neighbor. The music instead changed to a lively song and people cheered snapping Derek out of his stupor. He took a step back and Stiles’ hand dropped.

Stiles’ face was neutral as he went back to the porch railing. “So Derek Hale, what does one do for fun around here?”

“Uh…” was the cleverest response Derek could come up with. Silently admonishing himself, he said, “Well, there’s fishing and the library and—”

“What do you do?” Stiles inquired.

“I like to go for runs. There’s an amazing path behind my house that takes me to Walden’s Pond and back.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Stiles said. “I’ll meet you at your house tomorrow.”

“Oh…”

Stiles smiled brightly before he began to walk by Derek. He paused and grabbed his hand, lifting it up to the light shining from the open doorway. Derek noticed an ink spot he wasn’t able to wash off. Stiles’ grin widened.

“You are a mystery,” Stiles said, repeating Derek’s earlier words. “I look forward to learning more about you.”

With that, he dropped Derek’s hand and disappeared inside.


	3. Stiles Gets Educated

Over the course of the next couple of months (though Derek wasn’t quite sure how it happened), Stiles became his best friend. They ran together every morning. Derek learned about Stiles’ life in Europe, and Stiles was able to pry out Derek’s secret dream of becoming a writer. They discussed Derek’s stories and he even let his friend read a few. With Stiles’ encouragement, Derek began to submit his work to magazines for possible publication. Though nothing had come of it so far, Stiles made him believe it was possible that he’d become a published author someday.

On one bright morning, Stiles approached their usual meeting spot with a glum face.

“What is it?” Derek asked in concern.

“My mother’s brother,” Stiles said, kicking at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “My uncle is insisting on hiring a tutor for me. Apparently, the education in Beacon Hills is subpar, and if I’m going to be a part of the family business then I must start preparing for a good college.”

“Why don’t you just tell your uncle you want to become a teacher?” Derek asked as he stretched, referring to an earlier conversation they’d had.

Stiles’ eyes followed his movement before he sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about following your heart?”

“You don’t understand. My mother’s side raised me. They paid for everything I had growing up. I lacked for nothing. Is it really such a sacrifice to return the favor?”

“But you’ll be unhappy.”

“Not all of us have the kind of family you have, Derek,” Stiles said wistfully. “My uncle doesn’t have any children of his own. He fully expects me to take over the business someday. It was all he talked about before my father sent for me. I think he was half tempted to keep me in France.”

“I’m glad he didn’t,” Derek said, nudging Stiles’ side with his elbow, causing the boy to smile.

“I’m glad he didn’t, too,” Stiles replied, looking down at the path they were about to run. “I really like being in Beacon Hills. But can we talk about something else besides my dreary family?”

“Race you to the pond then,” Derek shouted before he took off running. Stiles let out a laugh before he easily overtook him. Though Derek had more muscle, Stiles had speed. When they returned home an hour later, Stiles began to grumble as soon as he saw a carriage in front of his house.

 “I guess I should go meet the tutor,” he said reluctantly.

“Think positively. At least you’ll have a shot at college. I’d love an opportunity like that.”

Derek knew there was no way his family could afford college for both Laura and himself. He was going to have to wait until she reached her dream of becoming a doctor before he could achieve his own. He and Stiles said their goodbyes and Derek made his way to his house. He quickly cleaned up and put on a fresh pair of clothes. He grabbed some fresh parchment and stuffed it into his satchel before making his way to Aunt Josephine’s. She was getting over a cold and was even crankier than usual. Hopefully, she would just nap the day away so he could write.

*~*

“He’s a nightmare,” Stiles complained as he lay back on the ratty chaise lounge in the attic. “Honestly, it’s ‘Stiles, you shouldn’t say this, it’s improper,’ or ‘Stiles, you shouldn’t conduct yourself in such a way, it’s not seemingly.’ Does my uncle know he’s paying this man to lecture me on propriety all day? Honestly! I don’t think my algebra has improved in the slightest.”

Derek snorted. “How old did you say this man was? Perhaps we should introduce him to Jennifer.”

“That’s just the thing!” Stiles said, sitting up so quickly Derek was surprised he didn’t pull a muscle. “He’s only two years older than me. I don’t know what I ever did in this life to deserve Isaac Lahey.” He got off the chaise and made his way over to where Derek was writing half-heartedly. “What are you working on today?”

“The Pirate Captain,” Derek mumbled. He grew distracted as Stiles sat down on his desk, his lower leg brushing against Derek’s thigh.

“Do you ever write about romance?” Stiles wondered as he stared at the top of Derek’s head.

“I’m hardly an expert at that.”

“But there’s so much story you could tell. What about giving the pirate a forbidden love affair?”

“He’s too busy pillaging to meet a lady,” Derek argued, trying to ignore how Stiles seemed to lean against him.

“Why does it have to be a lady?” Stiles whispered. “Perhaps it could be one of his pirates.”

Derek looked at Stiles in shock and Stiles shrugged. “It’s not inconceivable. I had two friends like that in France. Walked right in on them in a lover’s embrace.”

Derek jerked away from Stiles and got out of his chair. He moved quickly to the other side of the attic. “Don’t say such things. It’s not appropriate.”

Stiles looked generally confused. “What’s inappropriate about loving who you want to love? It’s quite common in Europe.”

“It’s an abomination,” Derek said, remembering Boyd’s words.     

“I see,” Stiles said, taking in Derek’s discomfort. “Perhaps I should go.”

“Perhaps you should,” Derek replied, not meeting his eyes.

They heard someone climbing the stairs and turned to see Malia entering the room, her appearance impeccable.

“Oh Stiles, I didn’t know you were here,” Malia replied, too innocently to be believable.

“I was just leaving,” Stiles said before turning to Derek. “I’ll see you for our run tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” he answered, still not looking at him. Stiles sighed and began to leave.

Malia huffed and said to Stiles, “Aren’t you going to say anything about my appearance?”

Stiles grinned and put his hand over his heart. “My humblest apologies. You take my very breath away with your beauty. Is that a new broach?”

“It is,” Malia preened. “I just received it from my…uncle.”

“It’s a worthy companion to such a jewel as yourself,” Stiles said in an exaggerated tone and Malia laughed lightly.

“You, sir, are a miscreant.”

“I aim to please,” Stiles said, offering Malia his arm. “Shall we go and leave your brother to his writing.”

Malia looked ridiculously pleased as she took Stiles’ arm and they left. Derek could hear her chatter all the way down the stairs and out the front door. He waited until it was completely silent before he went over to the chaise lounge and punched it as hard as he could. The furniture tumbled on its back. Its defeat offered little distraction to Derek who was divulging in a sick fantasy of Malia walking in on Stiles and Derek in a lover’s embrace. The shock would have her scurrying away from Stiles for decades.

 With shaking hands, he bent over and righted the chaise. He could very easily picture his fantasy. What terrified him the most was how much he wanted it.

*~*

A month later, Cora and Derek were walking home from town when Stiles came bursting out of his house. Derek and Stiles had quickly gotten over their disagreement in the attic. Stiles had met Derek the next day for their run and kept the topic off anything scandalous, and the tension between them soon evaporated.

“Derek,” Stiles shouted from his porch. “Isaac’s forcing culture on me. He’s got four tickets to the opera. Do you and Cora want to go?”

“Mr. Stilinski!” Isaac said, his expression embarrassed as he rushed out of the house. “One does not shout, especially in the presence of a lady.”

Stiles gave Derek a tortured look as Isaac bowed an apology to Cora. Derek waited to hear a sound of disgust from Cora, who hated being treated differently simply because she was a woman. When he glanced down at her, he saw a flush on her face, her eyes never leaving Isaac as she nodded in response to his bow.

“It’d be an honor if you would both accompany us,” Isaac added as he looked from Cora to Derek and back.

Cora turned pleading eyes on her brother and Derek’s eyebrows shot up at her hopeful expression. Finally, he said, “What night do we go?”

“Tonight,” Stiles said as he came over the picket fence that boarded his yard.

“I apologize for the short notice,” Isaac said as he joined them. “An acquaintance had planned on taking his family, but something came up and they can’t attend. He asked me if I could use them.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Cora said eagerly.

“We look forward to it,” Derek added, trying not to laugh at the smitten smiles Cora and Isaac were exchanging. “Come along, Cora. We should tell Marmee.”

They excused themselves and made their way to Orchard House. Derek nudged Cora in the ribs with his elbow once they were out of Stiles and Isaac’s sight.

“Do I need to have a conversation with Isaac about getting permission to court my sister?

“Shut your trap,” Cora sniped and Derek gave an exaggerated gasp at her slang.

“Does Isaac know what he’s getting into?”

Cora huffed and bolted through the door. She waited until Derek closed it behind her before she screamed. “Malia, help! I need a dress.”


	4. Sibling Rivalry

“Why can’t I go to the opera?” Malia demanded as Derek sat at the kitchen table in his best waistcoat, tapping his fingers impatiently against the wood as he waited for Cora. He could hear her still getting ready as she talked excitedly with Laura.

“Isaac only has four tickets,” Derek replied, his patience beginning to fray.

“Then I should go instead of you.”

Derek forced a laugh. “That wouldn’t get the town tongues wagging too much, would it? The youngest Hale sisters going out in the company of two men without the presence of a chaperone. Think of the scandal.”

“It would look like what it should,” Malia answered waspishly. “It would look like Cora and I are being courted by two gentlemen.”  

“Well, Stiles didn’t invite you,” Derek snapped, standing up abruptly.

“It’s not seemingly,” Malia muttered.

Derek stiffened, his expression turning dangerous. “What’s not seemingly? My acting as chaperone for my sister and her beau?”

“You and Stiles,” Malia said with a defiant lift of her chin. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. It’s not natural.”

Derek slammed his fist on the table so hard the dishes on it shook. Laura and Cora raced into the room, their faces shocked as they took in Derek’s uncharacteristic fury.

“If you ever…” Derek said in a shaky tone. “If you ever repeat such lies again, I will not consider you family. Do you understand?”

“What is going on?” Talia said as she entered from the parlor room.

Malia didn’t say anything. Her face was pale and her chin trembled before she whirled around and raced up the stairs. A few seconds later, they heard a door slam. Derek felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He ran outside and tried to gulp down some necessary air. He felt a presence behind him and then Laura’s comforting hand was on the back of his neck.

“Breathe, Derek,” she instructed and Derek forced air into his lungs. She guided him to a bench near their flower garden. He concentrated on regulating his breathing while trying to calm his humiliated heart.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?”  Laura asked.

“She said something vile to me,” Derek barely got out. “Something unforgiveable.”

“She’s jealous of you,” Laura said quietly.

“Why?” Derek said. “What have I ever done to provoke such a reaction from her?”

“Because Stiles doesn’t care for her the way she wants. She’s acting out like a child thwarted from getting a desired toy,” Laura explained gently. “And she sees you as her biggest threat to his affections.”

Derek went deathly still.  “What’s that supposed to mean? Laura, do you think there’s something—”

“You and Stiles are good friends. That’s all I need to know,” Laura said. “How Malia interprets that is her problem, not yours.”

 Derek couldn’t meet her gaze. He felt like he’d been ripped open and everything he kept inside was on display. From the moment Stiles entered Derek’s life, he had consumed too many of Derek’s thoughts. He got joy out of being in Stiles’ presence. He hated when Malia flirted with him. He missed him when he wasn’t around. And ever since that conversation in the attic, Derek had begun to dream the most sinful things. Things that caused him to wake up aching and hard. He felt lost and didn’t know who he could turn to.

“Laura, I…” he started to say, forcing himself to meet her eyes. But what he saw in her expression made him stop. The absolute understanding on her face made him realize he didn’t have to tell her anything. She already knew.

Laura reached over and hugged him before whispering in his ear, “I love you, Derek. No matter what, you are the best person I know. ”

He tightened his arms around her briefly before they let go of each other. She kissed his cheek before she got up and went inside. Cora appeared a few moments later, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Derek blinked in disbelief as he noticed her appearance for the first time.

Gone was the tomboy he knew and in her place was a stylish young woman. Her hair was coiled on top her head with flowers weaved delicately through her tresses. Her dress fit her form instead of hanging off her like her normal outfits did. Her cheeks were flushed with lively anticipation, her eyes sparkling.

“Cora?

“Say one word and I’ll horsewhip you,” Cora threatened with a glare and Derek laughed, which shook off some of the despondency he felt. There was the Cora he knew and loved. She came over and patted his arm. “Are you okay?”

Derek shook his head. “No, but let’s not continue this topic. I don’t want Malia to ruin our evening.”

Cora agreed and they made their way to the Stilinski house. Stiles and Isaac were just coming out. Derek seemed to have trouble breathing again as he took in Stiles’ dark blue waistcoat and how it complimented his coloring. They greeted each other as they normally did, and Derek tried to ignore the feeling that his world was off center. The group got inside the Stilinski carriage, Isaac and Cora on one side, Derek and Stiles on the other, and the groomsman set the buggy in motion.

“Balls is it hot,” Stiles said as he fanned himself with his hand.

“Stiles!” Isaac said, glancing at Cora as though expecting her to be mortally wounded by the inappropriate slang.

She shrugged. “I agree. It’s blazing.”

Isaac smiled dopily at her and Stiles straightened from where he’d been slouching.

“Say, where’s your lecture for her?” he demanded. “Cora can say blazing but I can’t say balls?”

Isaac pulled his gaze away from Cora to say to Stiles, “I’m not paid to correct her speech, not that I would. If a man has the ability to speak his mind, then surely a woman should too.”

“Oh, I like him,” Cora said happily and Derek snorted as Isaac turned into mush before their eyes.

Stiles threw his hands up in the air in disgust. “And to think, my uncle has been paying this scalawag to tutor me to death on propriety and the whole time he’s been a radical.”

“Technically, I’ve been paid to tutor you on economics and business. Teaching you to not be an oaf has been an added pleasure.”

Derek nodded in approval as he leaned toward his sister and said, “I like him, too.”

She blushed and Isaac smiled proudly. Stiles slouched back down in defeat before knocking his knee against Derek’s. “Do you want to go swimming tomorrow at Walden’s Pond?”

Derek’s heart sped up at the contact but he kept his face impassive as he said, “Sure.”

“Is everything all right?” Stiles asked quietly once Cora and Isaac became distracted by their own conversation.

“Fine,” Derek said, nudging Stiles playfully on the arm. No matter what unnatural feelings he seemed to be developing toward Stiles, he wasn’t going to let it ruin their friendship. Stiles grinned and began to discuss an opera he saw in Europe and the scandalous outfits the actors wore.

The rest of the evening went by too quickly. The opera was made all the more enjoyable thanks to Stiles leaning into Derek almost the entire performance, whispering inappropriate comments about the actors that made him laugh. They earned more than a few dirty looks throughout the show. By the time the evening drew to a close, Derek knew that Cora and Isaac were going to become an item. He wouldn’t be surprised if Isaac arrived on their doorstep the next day to ask for the right to court Cora.

When they got home, Derek went up to his room. A single sheet of parchment lay on his pillow. As he picked it up, he recognized Malia’s familiar scrawl. It was a simple message. _I’m sorry._ He folded it twice before walking over to the fireplace. He tossed it inside before lighting it, feeling nothing but emptiness as he watched it turn to ash.

~*~

Derek hurried to the edge of the pond, excitement filling his every step. He saw Stiles sitting on a log at the edge of the water, his shoulders slumped. His head popped up at the sound of Derek approaching.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Sorry,” Derek replied as he sat down next to the other boy. “I finished _The Pirate Captain_ last night and decided to submit it. I just dropped it off at the post office.”

“That’s fantastic!” Stiles said enthusiastically though Derek could easily tell there was something bothering him.

“What is it?”

Stiles sighed. “I received a letter from my uncle. He’s requesting that I return to Europe for further studies. I have until the end of the year to decide.”

Derek’s stomach dropped at the news. He couldn’t imagine Stiles living so far away. Not now. “So tell him no.”

Stiles leaned into Derek’s shoulder. “Let’s not talk about it. How about we race to that little island in the middle of the pond?”

“You’re on,” Derek answered. They both stood up and shed their shirts. Derek tried not to get distracted by the sight of Stiles’ lean exposed skin, but it was inevitable that his eyes would be glued to him. Stiles seemed to struggle to look away from Derek as well.

“I supposed we should remove our undergarments as well,” Stiles said huskily. “No point in getting those wet.”

“I suppose we should,” Derek replied, his voice thick. He reached for the belt of his pants at the same time Stiles reached for his own.

“Derek!” a shout sounded and Stiles let out a groan which changed into a cough.

“Derek! Stiles! Please wait for me.”

“Malia’s joining us?” Stiles asked, not bothering to mask his disappointment.

“She wasn’t invited,” Derek replied, barely holding on to his temper. He hadn’t said one word to Malia this morning despite her small attempts at conversation. Ignoring Malia’s approach, Derek said, “I believe you owe me a race.”

“I believe you’re right,” Stiles answered. “Last one there is a rotten goose.”

They shed their trousers, leaving the undergarments on, and jumped into the water. They were halfway to the island, swimming side by side, when they heard a scream. Derek stopped and turned around in confusion. He saw the rippling surface of water and then Malia’s head broke through.

“Help!” she shouted frantically before she went under again.

“Malia!” Derek yelled before he raced toward her. Stiles was already ahead of him. He reached where they last saw her and dove under the water. By the time Derek got there, Stiles already brought her back to the surface. They made their way to the shore, Malia cradled in Stiles’ arms, sobbing.

“My b-bloomer got caught on something u-underneath,” she cried hysterically. “I couldn’t g-get free.”

Derek reached for his sister and held her in his trembling arms, shushing her while rocking her back and forth.

“You’re okay,” he assured her. “We’ve got you.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, Derek,” she whispered and he knew she wasn’t talking about the fright she’d just given them.

He kissed her forehead and said, “It’s forgotten.”

Stiles gathered their discarded items and Derek carried Malia back to Orchard House. Derek spent the rest of the afternoon entertaining her with his stories, while Stiles sat quietly in the chair next to the siblings, a small smile on his lips.


	5. The Calm Before The Storm

As things go, time has a tendency to move on, even in a place as desolate as Beacon Hills. Before Derek knew it, fall was upon them. It meant the beginning of the new school year. Stiles had refused his uncle’s offer to study in Europe and planned on continuing his education under Isaac’s tutelage for the next few months. He did compromise with his uncle and agree to attend Stanford come winter. Stiles intellect was so astounding that he could have enrolled even earlier, but for some reason he wanted to stick around Beacon Hills. Even though Stanford was only a few hours away by train ride, it filled Derek with a sadness that was hard to shake. He had grown use to seeing Stiles every day.

There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the boys to spend as much time together as they could. As soon as Derek’s day with Aunt Josephine was done, he and Stiles would head off into the woods, walking and talking for hours before Malia got out of school and chased after them. Her crush on Stiles had reached ridiculous proportions, and though she never taunted Derek again, he could see the resentment on her face whenever he came home after an afternoon in Stiles’ company.

It was on such a warm fall day that Derek and Stiles found themselves at the top of the Beacon Hills cliffs. The view from where they stood overlooked the town below. Derek could see carriages moving down the dirt roads, and yet, it felt like it was just the two of them alone in the world.

“It’s peaceful here, isn’t it?” Derek asked as he sat on the ground and lay back with his hands behind his head. He stared at the sky, enjoying the solitude.

“Very,” Stiles said as he lied down next to him, so close their arms touched.

“But it won’t last, will it?” Derek said.

Stiles popped up on his elbow and stared down at Derek. “I’m going to Stanford in the winter. It’s not like I’m going to Europe. We’ll still see each other.”

Derek smiled sadly before teasing, “Nah, you’ll go off to college and you’ll meet more interesting people. You’ll have no time for an unsophisticated country bumpkin such as myself.”

“No one could confuse you for an unsophisticated bumpkin,” Stiles replied, his eyes running over Derek in a way that made Derek blush. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax.

It must have been the scent of fall in the air and the steadying sound of Stiles breathing in and out, but Derek soon found himself drifting off. He’d spent the night before staying up late with his writing and he’d barely been able to get through his workday. He began to dream of Stiles—always of Stiles—with details so vivid he jerked awake with a start.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked from where he lay next to Derek.

“Yes,” Derek said with a frown.

He heard Stiles suck in a breath and he glanced at him in confusion. Following his gaze, Derek felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he saw the evidence of his longing. Derek sat up quickly, bringing his legs up to hide his desire.

“I’m so desperately sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles said moving closer to Derek so that their sides were pressing together. He put a hand on the Derek’s back hesitantly. “It’s a natural part of life. It happens to me all the time.”

“ _All_ the time,” Derek replied lightly.

“It does! In fact…” Stiles sprawled out his legs in front of him and Derek’s eyes fell immediately to the tented area of Stiles’ pants.

Longing filled Derek and he had to hold back the urge to reach, to touch. His breathing became labored as his own need returned full force. With only the slightest pause, he uncurled his frame so that his legs lay in front of him like Stiles’.   


“You know, when I was in Europe,” Stiles said in a voice deeper than Derek had ever heard it. “I went to boarding school for some time. This type of thing happened all the time in the dormitories. It was nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Oh?” Derek replied, his stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Yep. When it got to be too much, we’d take care of it, right there in the dormitory.”

“I bet it was a relief,” Derek whispered.

“It was,” Stiles said eagerly, getting up on his knees so that he could face Derek. “You know, perhaps we should take care of this situation we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

Derek hesitated, knowing they were about to cross a line, no matter how Stiles tried to hint it was common practice amongst boys. Still…Derek wanted to. Very much. So, he slowly nodded his head.

“We certainly wouldn’t want to return to town in this condition.”

“Exactly,” Stiles replied, his hands moved to his trousers. He paused, looking uncertainly at Derek.

Derek took a deep breath, trying to squelch his nerves before he copied Stiles’ pose. He made the first move, undoing the fastener of his trousers. He slowly pushed his pants and undergarments down and he heard Stiles’ breath catch.

His cock, heavy and hard, danced up to his stomach upon being freed. Stiles’ eyes followed the movement. With cheeks flushed red, he undid his own pants and pushed them out of his way. As Stiles revealed himself, Derek was struck by the thought that Stiles was beautiful. He never thought a man could be beautiful until he met the boy in front of him.

“Derek,” Stiles murmured as he slowly reached down to touch himself.

Derek groaned at the sight before grasping himself. He watched Stiles greedily as he began to move his hand and Stiles’ gaze remained locked on him. Up, down, wrist twisting this way and that. The air was soon filled with obscene sound of their moans and the rubbing of flesh. Derek felt the familiar tightening as pleasure shot across his nerve endings. He bit on his lip in order to stop himself from shouting out Stiles’ name as he reached his release. Stiles joined him quickly after, his back arching as he came.

The men were quiet as they tried to catch their breath. Derek reached down and wiped his hand on the grass before doing his pants up.

“That was…” Stiles said, still breathless. “That was good. We should do that again sometime. I mean, if you want.”

“Yeah…yes, we should.” Derek agreed, caring little of anything else but seeing Stiles naked again like he just was.

“Yeah?” Stiles replied hopefully.

“If we should find ourselves in the same predicament. It’s only the rightful thing to do,” Derek said, standing up.

Stiles grinned broadly at him as he fastened his pants. They made their way back to town, their shoulders brushing as they walked. Derek watched Stiles out of the corner of his eye and Stiles did the same to Derek. A secret smile would form on their lips every time they realized they were staring at one another.  Once they reached the gates of Orchard House, Stiles reached over and gave Derek’s arm a squeeze, his fingertips running down the length of it in a way that made Derek shiver before he headed across the street to his house. Feeling lighter than air, Derek walked into his house and was greeted to the sight of chaos.

Cora was running across the room with their mother’s shoes, Malia was hurrying after her with Marmee’s travel gear.  They ran up the stairs without a word but Derek noticed the tears streaming down their cheeks. Jennifer was in the kitchen packing food frantically, while Laura grabbed several books off the shelf in the parlor room before following their sisters up the stairs. He could hear loud talking coming from his parents’ room.

“What is going on?” he finally asked Jennifer.

Jennifer took one look at him and burst into tears. Derek felt his panic skyrocket and he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He went straight into his mother’s room and found her and his sisters packing a traveling trunk.

“What’s going on?” he repeated.

“Oh Derek,” Talia said, cupping her son’s cheek in her hand. “Your father has been wounded.”

“What?” Derek whispered. “Is he—is he going to make it?”

Talia’s eyes appeared to sparkle with unshed tears before they became determined. “Of course he’s going to make it. I will not accept anything else. I’m going to join him while he heals. I need you to watch over your sisters in my absence. Make sure Cora and Malia get to school on time and they stay on top of their homework.”

“I will.”

“Laura,” their mother said with a sniff before she hurried back over to her trunk. “I need you to check on the Hummels in my absence. The little ones have been ill as of late and I know Mrs. Hummel is worn to the bit. I think a visit from a doctor in training would do much to lift their spirits, even if you aren’t able to practice yet.”

“We’ll take care of everything,” Laura promised.

“Oh my sweet children,” Talia said with a sob. She held out her arms and the Hale siblings surrounded their mother, holding her close.

A voice cleared from the hallway and Derek saw Isaac Lahey standing there with a quiet Stiles behind him.

“If you’re ready to go, ma’am,” Isaac said. It was then that Derek noticed the carpet bag next to his feet.

“Isaac has agreed to travel with Marmee,” Cora explained at Derek’s confusion.

“Isaac,” Derek said, walking over to the other man to shake his hand. “Thank you.”

Isaac squeezed his hand firmly and it reassured Derek that his mother would be in safe hands. Together, Stiles and Derek carried his mother’s travel trunk down the stairs and loaded it onto the sheriff’s buggy. The elder Stilinski sat waiting, the horse’s reins in his sure hands. The boys strapped the trunk into place along with Isaac’s bag. Stiles climbed in next to his dad as Talia and Isaac got in the back. With one more wave to her children, the snap of the horses’ reins sounded through the air and the buggy was off.

~*~

It took a couple of weeks, but the Hales soon heard from their mother. Their father was going to make it, but he’d be laid up for awhile so Talia decided to remain by her husband’s side. Quietness fell upon Orchard House as each sibling went about doing their best to keep the household running in the absence of their matriarch. Soon autumn gave to winter and the Christmas holiday was only weeks away.

Derek left Plumfield, Aunt Josephine’s house, one afternoon, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck. The air had turned bitterly cold recently. It had put a halt to Derek and Stiles’ excursions up to the cliffs, which they had gotten into the habit of going to at least one or twice a week. He missed that time with his best friend. He missed the expression on Stiles’ face as he pleasured himself in front of Derek. They’d have to find a new place to go. Someplace where they wouldn’t freeze their inexpressibles off.

Derek reached Orchard House and checked the mailbox. He paused as he saw a letter addressed to him from a magazine he’d submit a story to. Ripping it open, he quickly scanned the letter. Excitement rippled through him as he read the news that they were going to publish _The Pirate Captain_. Included in the envelope was a check for five dollars. That would keep their family afloat for at least two months!

He could hear Stiles banging away at his piano and he raced to the Stilinski house, knocking on the door fanatically. The music stopped and Stiles opened the door, a smile brightening his face when he saw who it was. Derek’s heart gave a little lurch as he looked at the man in front of him. Stiles would be leaving in a few short weeks for college and Derek was miserable at the idea. But even with the knowledge of their impending separation, Derek couldn’t help but hand Stiles his letter with a happy grin.

Stiles read the letter and beamed. He pulled Derek in for a hug and whispered in his ear, “I knew you could do it.”

Derek shuddered at the feel of Stiles’ breath against his skin. Stiles stepped slightly, their bodies still touching and Derek felt himself begin to respond at the contact.

“I wish we could go to the cliffs,” Stiles whispered.

“Me too,” Derek responded.

“You know, my father isn’t home,” Stiles said, taking a step back into the house. Derek moved with him as though they were tied together by invisible rope.

“Oh really?” Derek replied as casually as he could.

“It’s just me here,” Stiles said, turning to go into the living room with Derek hovering close behind. He paused at the chaise lounge as Stiles went to the curtains and pulled them shut. The only light in the room was from the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby.

“Do you want to?” Stiles asked questioningly.

“God yes,” Derek stated eagerly already reaching for the fastener of his trousers. They settled on the chaise, each pushing their pants and undergarments out of the way. Derek went to wrap his hand around himself when Stiles reached for him. He paused before actually touching Derek’s skin.

“Can I?” Stiles asked. “Please, can I?”

Derek’s heart was beating so rapidly he wondered if it’d fly out of his chest. He slowly nodded and Stiles licked his palm before wrapping long fingers around him. Derek groaned as the contact and soon found himself thrusting into the warm fist. Having Stiles’ hand on him felt extraordinary and he wanted to return the favor. He licked his own palm before reaching over and grabbing Stiles’ hardness. Stiles moaned in pleasure.

“That’s it, Derek, that feels so good.”

They continued this way until Derek felt the familiar tightening. He shouted out as his release erupted from him. His hand continued to move on Stiles until his friend reached his own pleasure. Stiles grabbed the blanket folded next to the chaise and cleaned himself before passing it to Derek to do the same. After they were done, they both leaned back, breathing heavily.

Derek turned his head so that he could watch Stiles. The other man’s cheeks were flushed red, his lips parted temptingly. Derek wanted so badly to press his mouth against those plump lips but he figured they’d already crossed one too many lines that day.

“I should go,” he finally said, fastening his trousers back up. “I want to let Laura and the others know about my story.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wash your hands first?” Stiles offered, staring at Derek as though searching for something. Derek grinned and a flash of what looked like relief danced in Stiles’ eyes.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Derek replied. Despite the blanket, the scent of their mutual pleasure lingered on their skin. They stood up and went to the washroom, using the water pump and soap to clean their hands. When they were through, Stiles moved so that he was standing behind Derek. He wrapped his arms around him and placed his cheek against Derek’s back. Derek pulled Stiles’ arms around him so that they were even tighter.

They stood like that for several moments, wrapped up in each other’s warmth before Derek finally murmured, “I need to go.”

“I know,” Stiles said reluctantly before he sighed. He let go of Derek and Derek turned around. They faces were mere inches apart and Derek was again overcome with the need to kiss him. Shaking himself from his stupor, he smiled at his friend before moving toward the hallway. He grabbed his letter and headed out the door.

He knew that Jennifer had planned on going out for the afternoon to get household necessities but Laura was supposed to be in. She had left early in the morning to help out at Dr. Deaton’s and then planned to stop by the Hummels, but she should have returned by now.  Derek walked eagerly into the kitchen, his letter clutched in his hands.

“Laura?” he shouted. “You’ll never believe it. I’m getting published. They’re paying me five dollars—”

He ran into the parlor and came to an abrupt halt as he saw his sister. She was curled into a ball on the chaise. Her face was the color of parchment, which made the red blotchiness on her skin stand out in stark contrast.

“Derek,” she whispered. “I don’t feel well.”

He raced to her and touched her forehead, yanking his hand back as he felt her burning flesh. Without thought, he picked her up in his arms. It said how terrible she felt that she didn’t object to this. Instead, she pushed her face against his neck. He felt panic course through him as he felt how hot her skin was. Derek raced up the stairs and placed Laura gently on her bed. Her teeth began to chatter.

“I’m f-freezing,” Laura murmured.

Derek bit his lip as he sought out the lightest blanket he could find. He didn’t understand what was wrong with his sister. She said she was cold but her skin felt like fire.

“Derek!” a shout came from downstairs and Derek felt instant relief.

“Jennifer, help!”

Jennifer raced into the room seconds later and immediately took in the situation. She ran to Laura and placed a hand on her head.

“What’s wrong with her?” Derek asked shakily.

“I just heard at the store that the Hummel’s youngest child, Kurt, just passed from scarlet fever.” She turned to Derek and grabbed his shoulders. “You need to make arrangements for Malia. Your mother told me you and Cora already had scarlet fever when you were younger so you won’t be exposed again but Malia could be vulnerable.

“I don’t want to leave Laura—“

“Go Derek,” Jennifer ordered as she pushed up her sleeves and turned toward Laura again.

Derek ran out of the house and went across the street to the Stilinskis’. He banged on the door, silently begging for Stiles to quickly answer.

“Hey, back again?” Stiles teased after opening the door. The smile immediately disappeared as he took in Derek’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Laura—she’s sick. We think she might have scarlet fever,” Derek said, his eyes burning with unshed tears. “Please. Find Malia and take her to Plumfield. She can’t come home right now.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Stiles promised.

Derek nodded and hurried back home. He couldn’t think right now—couldn’t think about the fact that while he was with Stiles doing sinful things, his sister lay at home alone and suffering. He came into the house to see Jennifer at the stove. She was dumping belladonna into a bowl of steaming water.

“Did you find Malia?” she asked, not removing her eyes from her task.

“Stiles is going to take her to Plumfield.”

Jennifer nodded before handing Derek the bowl. “Take this and use the cloth I put next to Laura’s bed to wipe her forehead. It’ll help with her burning skin. I’m going to make her some soup. We need to keep her fed.”

Derek did as instructed, wiping his sister’s feverish brow and praying she would get through this. Jennifer soon came in with a bowl of soup but Laura was too ill to consume anything. As she lay shivering, Derek heard frantic feet on the stairs right before Cora burst into the room.

“Malia and I ran into Stiles and he told us what was going on. How is she?”

“Refusing to eat,” Derek answered.

Cora sat down on her own bed, nervously chewing her lip. Cora, Malia, and Laura had shared a room since they were babies. The worry on his younger sister’s face was evident even across the room.

They stayed with Laura for the next few hours, refusing to leave the room even as Jennifer prodded them to get their own meal. Stiles came sometime in the evening with Dr. Deaton. The doctor’s face was grim as he examined the patient. He motioned for Derek and Cora to follow him into the hall.

“There’s nothing I can do,” Deaton said. “She’s too weak for me to bleed her. I think it would be best to call for your mother.”

“Forgive me,” Stiles spoke from near the stairs. “I already sent for her.”

Cora hugged him. Derek wanted to do the same but he couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Thank you so much,” Cora said. “You are such a friend to us.”

Letting him go, she went back into the bedroom. The doctor offered a few suggestions to Derek on how to keep Laura comfortable before he said his goodbye.

“Are you all right?” Stiles asked once they were alone.

Derek shook his head. “This is my fault.”

“What? How can you say that?”

“She was sick,” Derek said, his voice raspy. “She was sick and you and I were…”

“Derek, you can’t believe that the two are related,” Stiles said, placing his hand on Derek’s arm. Derek shook him off and turned away.

“We shouldn’t have done what we did. It was wrong and now I’m being punished for it.”

“Derek, please,” Stiles said brokenly. “I know you’re upset but don’t do this.”

“I can’t—” Derek replied, closing his eyes. “I can’t have this conversation right now.”

“All right,” Stiles said, taking a step back. “But we _will_ talk about it.”

Derek didn’t look at him as he walked back into the room. The next few days was taut with tension. Cora spent her days between school, updating Malia, and sitting on her bed, staring worriedly at her sister. Derek barely left the room himself, sleeping on Malia’s bed when he had to and only leaving to bath, relieve himself, and eat. He stayed by Laura’s side, reading her his stories until his voice would go hoarse. He was aware of Stiles always nearby, usually sitting in a chair in the hallway, eager to help out in any way he could, whether it was to fetch fresh water for Laura or to run into town for food.

A week after Laura first became ill, Sheriff Stilinski walked in the room with Talia Hale right behind him. She immediately went to her daughter’s side.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she murmured as she pushed back the sweaty hair clinging to Laura’s cheek. She turned to her other children. “Derek, go get my medicine bag. Cora, go eat something. You look like you’re about to faint and we don’t need another patient on our hands.”

They both nodded but Cora paused before leaving the room. “Marmee, did Isaac come back with you?”

Talia went to her daughter and patted her cheek. “He stayed behind with your father. He’s a good man.”

Cora grinned weakly and went down to eat. Talia refused to let her healthy children linger in their sister’s room so Cora went down to the main floor and idly plucked at the keys of her piano. Derek went up to the attic to write. He needed a distraction—something that would keep him from staring longingly out the window at the Stilinski house. So he began to write some drabble that he’d probably toss later. He wrote until his eyes grew too heavy. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, he found his face plastered to his desk and sunlight shining from the window. He jerked to his feet, ignoring the crick in his neck, and raced down the stairs to his sister’s room.

His heart leapt to his throat as he saw Laura sitting up in her bed. Their mother sat next to her, hand feeding her broth. Though Laura still looked pale, her coloring was slightly improved and the rash that had been so prevalent on her face over the past week had dissipated.  

“Oh Laura,” Derek said, sinking to his knees next to her bed. She ran her fingers down his cheek in comfort. He grabbed her hand and held it tight as he ordered, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I don’t plan on it,” she said weakly and they grinned at each other.

~*~

Christmas came with much fanfare. The Hales had a lot to be thankful for. Though Laura was still very weak, she was able to come down to the main floor of the house for the first time in two weeks. Cora played Christmas tunes on the piano jubilantly, while Malia stood behind Laura, wrapping her hair in a stylish up-do as she chatted light-heartedly with Aunt Josephine. A package had arrived for Malia that morning from Peter, filled to the brim with the finest bows. Malia had picked out the prettiest one and had given it to her oldest sister. Laura pretended to hate the fuss as she was never one to keep up with styles, but Derek saw her give their youngest sister a hug in way of thanks.

The Stilinskis came over for dinner by Talia’s invitation. She was grateful for their help during Laura’s illness as well as their allowing Isaac to travel east with her. The sheriff was a quiet man but his face wore a happy expression as he sat in a chair next to Cora, his thumb tapping with the music she played.

Derek did what he could to avoid Stiles, but a confrontation was bound to happen. He had escaped to his room on the excuse he wanted to get a book for Laura. As he came out into the hallway, he collided with Stiles. 

“So is this how it’s going to be from now on?” Stiles asked, not trying to mask the pain in his voice.

Derek refused to look at him. “I think it would be best.”

“Horseshit,” Stiles replied and Derek was so shocked by the vulgarity his eyes flew up to Stiles’ before he could stop himself. Anger burned Stiles’ cheeks red.

“My sister almost died!” Derek reminded.

“Whether you were with me or not, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that Laura had already been exposed to scarlet fever. Nothing could have prevented her from getting sick.”

“We were being immoral and Laura suffered for it.”

Stiles raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “There’s nothing immoral on how we feel about each other.”

And there it was. The elephant in the room. Derek shook his head.

“I won’t allow it,” Derek said firmly, remembering Boyd’s words from so long ago. “It’s an abomination and it won’t happen again.”

He brushed by Stiles and was almost to the stairs when Stiles spoke again.

“I’m leaving for school next week,”

Derek jolted to a stop. He felt stabbing pain in his stomach and had to open his mouth to force air in his lungs. He could hear Stiles’ footsteps as he walked toward him. 

“Will you at least write to me?”

“I don’t know,” Derek responded before walking down the stairs. He went into the kitchen where he began to get the plates needed for dinner. His mother came into the room with a frown on her face.

“What’s going on between you and Stiles?”

Derek almost dropped the plate he was holding as he jerked his gaze toward her. “Nothing.”

“He’s sitting in the parlor looking like he’s about to cry, and then I come in here and find you in the same condition. Did you have a fight?”

“It’s not important, Marmee. What’s important is that Laura’s better and we have a delicious meal to eat.”

She opened her mouth to argue when there was a commotion at the front door. His father came limping into the room with Isaac grinning broadly behind him.

“Father!” Malia shouted as she hurried to hug the man.

Cora went running by them both so that she could launch herself at Isaac. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground and swinging her in a circle before kissing her in a way that made Aunt Josephine gasp in indignation. Their father let out a boisterous laugh. 

“Well, it’s good to see you too, my little mouse,” he said to Cora.

“Sorry,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear. She hurried to her dad and gave him a hug before returning to Isaac’s side.

William Hale made his way over to his eldest daughter who was standing weakly on her feet. He didn’t try to hide the tears that streamed down his cheeks as he hugged her to him.

“You scared me,” he scolded her.

“Consider it me returning the favor from your time away,” she responded and he shook his head with a laugh, pulling back to pat her cheek.  Giving her a kiss on the forehead, he turned to his only son.

“Derek?” he said, his thick eyebrows rising. “Why, when I last saw you, you were a foot shorter than you are now.”

“Father,” was Derek’s only response before he rushed into his dad’s waiting arms. He hugged him close and some of the boiling emotions inside of Derek eased.

“Now then,” their dad said gruffly after exchanging a kiss with his wife. He turned to where Cora and Isaac were pressed to each other’s sides. “What is the meaning of this?”

“With your permission,” Isaac said nervously. “I’d like to ask your daughter her hand in marriage.” Cora gasped in surprise and Isaac turned to her and started babbling, “I mean, if you’ll have me. I know I don’t have much to offer now, but Stiles’ uncle was pleased with the education I gave Stiles so he offered me a position in his company’s Los Angeles office. It’s entry level but there’s room for advancement. Give me four years to get established and I’ll be able to offer you the world—”

Cora placed her hand over Isaac’s mouth. “I don’t need the world if I have you.”

Derek snorted and Cora took a moment to glare at him. “Shut your trap.” She turned to her parents with pleading eyes. “Say yes.”

“Well, it looks like my daughter has already made up her mind,” William said.

Talia smirked at her husband. “Stop teasing them.” She went to Isaac and hugged him. “It’d be an honor to have you in our family.”

“Thank you,” he replied before looking at Cora. He grabbed both of her hands in his and said, “Will you have me?”

“Yes,” she shouted before kissing him again.

The room was a mixture of clapping and laughing. Jennifer found a bottle of cider and the group toasted to the new couple. Though Derek was elated for his sister, he couldn’t help but notice Stiles standing apart from the crowd. He had a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Derek took a deep breath and walked over to him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Stiles responded, not looking at him.

Derek looked around the room at all the people that meant the most to him. He had everyone back in his life and even though he was undeserving of it, he was grateful they were all close by him. But soon Stiles would be gone, off to school and who knew when he’d be back. Despite what he knew was for the best, Derek couldn’t quite let himself say goodbye to Stiles.

“I’ll write you,” he finally said.

Stiles didn’t say anything but Derek saw the tiny smile appear on his lips.


	6. A Parting of Ways

_Beacon Hills - 1868_

“I’m not one for speeches,” William Hale said and those that knew him snickered amongst themselves. He held his hand up to quiet the crowd. “To be honest, I never thought Cora would be the first of my children to marry—”

“Thanks Father,” she said, glaring at him from the nearby table. At twenty, Cora had turned into a stunning beauty. Dressed as she currently was in her wedding finery, she looked like a queen.

“I only say that because you once told me you never wanted to get married; that you wanted to make your own way in the world. And you will. So to my daughter who is about to begin a career as a concert pianist, I wish you the best. And to my new son-in-law. You are in for the ride of your life. To the bride and groom.”

“To the bride and groom,” the crowd echoed. The two grinned at each other and kissed. Derek looked away from the pair, scanning the crowd.

His gaze fell onto Laura. Things had worked out well for Cora over the past four years. The same could not be said for his eldest sister. Laura’s heart was forever weakened by the scarlet fever. School became too much for her and she had to drop out. On her good days, Derek or one of their parents would drive her in their buggy to Dr. Deaton’s office where she would still volunteer, greeting the patients and getting their information for the doctor. But most days were not good days and Laura spent a majority of her time on bed rest.

Without Laura in college, Derek’s parents had offered to pay for his schooling but he refused. It was obvious to him that despite his father’s jovial attitude, he had his scars from the war, both physically and emotionally. The first year he was back, he’d jump at every loud noise he heard, and Derek would never forget the day he walked by his parents’ bedroom and saw his father curled on the floor, crying his heart out. Derek told his parents to use the money on Cora. Instead, he got a job at the local newspaper writing articles. It didn’t pay much, but he was able to contribute some money to the household.

Cora had gone off to college to study music appreciation. It was there that her talent truly shined, and she was now gaining a reputation across the state for her piano playing. She was already invited to join the symphony in Los Angeles once she joined Isaac there. Between her success and Isaac’s recent promotion to branch manager, Derek knew they’d take the town by storm.

As Malia walked over to Laura, he wondered when she would finally put the local sots out of their misery and accept one of the many offers she’d received for her hand in marriage. At eighteen, Malia’s beauty was only rivaled by Cora’s. She could have the world at her feet if she so desired. Peter had often offered to pay for her schooling if she chose to expand her education, but Malia politely refused. She had taken Derek’s old spot as Aunt Josephine’s companion and seemed perfectly content to stay in Beacon Hills, spending her spare time working on her drawing.

He had a feeling he knew what she was waiting for and it made his stomach churn in despair. Malia never seemed to get over her crush on Stiles. Not that he could blame her. Stiles was a recent college graduate about to take up a position in his family business. He was fast on his way to becoming wealthy, not to mention he had grown into the handsomest man this side of California (those were Jennifer’s words not Derek’s). And Stiles was popular, too. In his time away at school, his letters to Derek were filled with his expeditions to campus parties and visits to the local country clubs. He had grown extremely close to two friends in particular, both of who were at Cora’s wedding.

One was Scott McCall. He was friendly to everyone he saw and had a bright smile on his face whenever Derek looked at him. Derek didn’t trust him for that reason on principle. No one was that happy. The other was Jackson Whittemore, a rich pompous ass who kept looking around their home with disdain. Derek couldn’t figure out why Stiles befriended the man other than the fact that the man was exceedingly handsome. Derek hated him even more than he hated Scott McCall.

“What’s that sour expression for?”

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._ Derek turned to look at Stiles. “Just wondering why you were friends with such a pompous ass as Jackson Whittemore.”

Stiles let out a startled laugh as he sat in the chair next to Derek. “He is that but he’s also a good guy to have in your corner, not to mention loyal to a fault.”

He sprawled his legs in front of him, looking completely at ease. Derek tried to ignore the way Stiles’ trousers clung to him in just the right areas. Their friendship never fully recovered after their fight that Christmas so long ago. Derek didn’t allow physical contact between them, and once Stiles realized that he distanced himself emotionally.

“So, have you decided what office you are going to work out of?” Derek asked as he watched Cora and Isaac begin to waltz around the makeshift floor that had been set up in their backyard.

“My uncle wants me at headquarters,” Stiles said with a frown.

“In France?” Derek straightened in his chair.

“What else is there for me in California?”

“Your father.”

“As much as I love my father, we’re hardly close, as you know.”

“But France is so far away.”

Stiles glanced at Derek out of the corner of his eye before standing. “I was happy in France before. I could be happy there again. There’s nothing for me here.”

He walked over to Jackson, who briefly wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He whispered something in Stiles’ ear who shook his head. Looking disgruntled, Jackson dropped his arm and walked over to the buffet table. Derek tried not to wonder what that was about. He had no right to feel what he was feeling. And what he was feeling was that he wanted to punch Jackson in the face.

~*~

Derek walked through the woods, lost in thought. He felt edgy for reasons he couldn’t explain even to himself. He’d felt this way ever since Cora’s wedding. He had a feeling it had to do with Stiles and his claim that there was nothing for him in California. Or perhaps it had to do with the proprietary way Jackson stared at Stiles for the week he and McCall were in town. Thankfully, Jackson and Scott had left Beacon Hills that morning. 

Regardless, Derek felt restless and continued to walk further into the woods. When he finally came to awareness, he realized he had walked up to his and Stiles’ old haunt on the cliffs. He took a deep breath, smelling the fresh flowers and scent of forest surrounding him.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said from behind him and Derek turned to see Stiles standing there. Derek felt his eyebrows rise as he took in the other man’s appearance. Stiles’ hair was sticking up at different angles as though he’d run his hand through it several times and his eyes kept glancing around as though he expected something wild to jump down from the branches above them.

“Are you all right?” Derek asked in concern.

“No,” Stiles said before walking right up to Derek and grabbing his face.

Derek felt his mouth drop open in surprise even as his body rejoiced at finally having contact again with Stiles. It had been four long years since they were this close to each other. It was like giving a man water after walking through the desert for a week without any substance.

“What are you doing?” he found himself asking.

“I need to know something,” Stiles whispered.

“What?”

Instead of answering, Stiles closed the short distance between them and kissed Derek. Derek couldn’t help but groan as he finally— _finally_ —got to feel the sensation of Stiles’ lips against his own. He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, trying to pull him even tighter, but much to Derek’s dismay, Stiles began to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t want me touching you—”

“Stiles…” Derek murmured before pressing their mouths back together. When Derek felt Stiles’ tongue press against his closed lips, he parted them so that they could taste one another. It was like a lantern being lit and things quickly turned heated after that.

Stiles reached for the buttons on Derek’s shirt and began to quickly undo them as though he were afraid Derek would stop him. Stopping Stiles was the furthest thought from Derek’s mind. Stiles broke their kiss to press his mouth against the skin he was exposing. He nibbled and sucked on Derek’s neck in way that had Derek throbbing for him. He continued on his path downward, teasing and taunting Derek’s nipples before running his tongue in a circle around Derek’s belly button.

Stiles was soon on his knees with his hands on the fastening of Derek’s trousers. He looked up questioningly and his expression was so vulnerable, Derek felt his heart turn. Whatever Stiles was looking for in Derek’s face, he must have received his answer because he undid Derek’s pants and pushed them down along with Derek’s undergarment.

Derek had to lean against the tree behind him as Stiles ran his tongue along his cock, tasting and teasing Derek before finally sucking him into his talented mouth. Derek bit back a shout as Stiles pleasured him and he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“Stiles,” Derek warned and Stiles released him with a pop. He wanted to groan out his frustration but stopped when he noticed Stiles reach inside his pocket.

“Here,” Stiles said with shaking hands. Derek looked down at the tiny jar in confusion. Stiles looked sheepish. “I was hopeful…”

“What do I do with this? Derek asked, his voice trembling.

“Coat your fingers with it,” Stiles explained as he began to undress himself. Derek was momentarily distracted as Stiles removed his items of clothing. At seventeen, Stiles had been lean but scrawny. Now, at twenty-one, his muscles had filled out leaving him defined and even more beautiful.

“Derek, hurry,” Stiles pleaded.

Derek wasn’t sure what was going to happen next but he had an idea. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers. Stiles got down on all fours, pushing his buttocks in the air. With trembling limbs, Derek got on his knees behind him. He reached for Stiles’ cheeks and parted them, exposing Stiles in a way Derek had fantasized about for too long. Uncapping the jar Stiles gave him, he coated his fingers.

“Now what?” he asked huskily.

“You need to get me ready,” Stiles explained. “Place your fingers inside me.”

Derek placed his index finger at the edge of Stiles’ opening and circled it. Stiles groaned and arched his back, exposing himself even further to Derek’s greedy view.

Carefully, slowly, Derek pushed his finger in. Stiles’ heat wrapped around him and Derek’s had to squeeze his own cock to avoid coming right there. Once he felt sure he was going to remain in control, he moved his finger inside Stiles. He’d never done anything like this before, even to himself. He let Stiles’ reactions guide him as to if he was doing it correctly. Given the way Stiles was now chanting his name, Derek had a feeling he was on the right track. He soon added a second and then a third finger. He hit a spot inside Stiles and Stiles shout out. He continued his administrations until Stiles was begging him to stop.

“No more,” Stiles pleaded. “I need you. I need you inside me. Please Derek.”

Derek took a shaky breath before using the slick inside the jar and rubbing it on his arousal.

“Are you sure?” Derek asked.

“I’ve been sure for years,” he thought he heard Stiles mutter, but Stiles just nodded. Derek placed himself at Stiles entrance and pushed in. He didn’t bother to hold back the yell that escaped him as Stiles’ warmth enveloped him. He waited until he knew Stiles was ready before he began to move. And then he didn’t stop.

He moved until he saw stars behind his closed eyelids. He continued to thrust even as he felt Stiles fly over the brink. As Stiles’ insides gripped him like a vise, the tremors that surrounded him triggered his own release. And then his back arched and the world came to a standstill as Derek shook all over in sheer pleasure. He slowly pulled out and then collapsed on the forest floor. Stiles rolled onto his side, flinging a leg over Derek’s and peppering his face with soft kisses.

When they both got their breath back, Derek finally asked, “What was that all about?”

He felt Stiles tense and he stopped where he was nuzzling Derek’s neck. Finally, he said, “I had to know.”

“Know what?” Derek asked as his hand did lazy circles along Stiles’ spin.

“If there was still something between us.”

Derek went rigid as he remembered exactly why he had kept his distance. The first time the two of them had touched themselves on this very ridge, Derek had gone home and found out his father had been injured in war. The first time Derek allowed Stiles to touch him, Laura had almost died. What would be the price his family would have to pay now for Derek’s sin? He pulled away and began to dress without making eye contact with Stiles.

“No, dammit!” Stiles said, knocking the shoe Derek had just picked up out of his hand. “You’re not going to do this to me again.”

“What do you want me to say?” Derek said helplessly.

“I want you to tell me you love me like I love you,” Stiles said. That brought Derek’s eyes up to Stiles’.

“What?” he asked, trying to ignore the way his heart soared.

“I love you,” Stiles repeated firmly. “I am in love with you. I have been for years.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Derek asked as he quickly drew on his clothes.

“Because there’s no reason for me not to,” Stiles said as he reached for his own clothes. “Derek, I love you and I want to be with you and—”

He was cut off by Derek’s sharp laughter.

“Where do you get these delusions?” Derek questioned, feeling himself get angry. Angry with Stiles for ruining their friendship. Angry with himself for allowing his heart to briefly overrule his common sense. “In what world do you ever think we can ever be together? Do you think we can have what Cora and Isaac have? Do you think we can walk down the streets of Beacon Hills and people would just accept us?”

“I’m not talking about Beacon Hills,” Stile said desperately. “I want you to come to France with me. There are places there where they don’t care about people like us.”

“People like us,” Derek repeated blankly. 

Stiles took a deep breath as though to calm himself before he said, “I’m going to put my dream of becoming a teacher aside to join the family business—it’s the least I can do after all they’ve done for me. The only thing that makes the thought bearable is the possible hope that’ll you’ll be by my side.”

“We can’t,” Derek said softly.

“Derek, please. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Say you’ll be with me.”

Derek felt cold all over ad he slowly shook his head.

“‘People like us.’…is that what you said? Do you know what happens to people like us? People look at them like they have a disease. They get whipped and hung. There is no place in this world where we can be together. No one would accept us. We can’t be together, don’t you get that!” Derek practically shouted.

Stiles must have read the absolute rejection on his face because he let out a whimper before turning away.

“Then I shall go alone,” Stiles said, looking down at Beacon Hills. “I won’t come back.”

Derek felt like the world had dropped out from beneath his feet. “You don’t have to do that. Your father—“

“—can come visit me in France.” Stiles turned back around and Derek felt his heart break at the bitter disappointment he saw before him. He was responsible for putting that look on Stiles’ face.

“I won’t do it,” Stiles said. “I won’t stay here and watch you marry some insipid girl who will leave you cold in your bed and miserable in your home. It’s no more than you deserve for being such a coward, but I won’t watch you do it all the same.”

He walked over to Derek then and looked him straight in the eye as he said, “I’m done with…whatever this was between us. I can’t keep hoping and fighting for something you’ve made clear won’t happen. You told me how you felt on the matter long ago during our conversation in the attic. You said two men together was an abomination, remember? I didn’t want to believe those were your true feelings but I believe you now. I wanted to give you my heart, but you’ll only ever see that as something disgusting, won’t you? So this is goodbye Derek. I won’t bother you again.” Derek went to grab his arm to stop him from leaving but Stiles shook his head, instantly halting the gesture. “And I don’t want you bothering me. We’re through. Goodbye Derek.”

He walked away, his shoulders stiff as he left. Derek swallowed over the painful lump in his throat. Why couldn’t Stiles understand that he was doing this for his protection? Boyd had explained in vivid detail what happened to people like them, even as he flinched away from Derek like he had the plague, having sensed his true nature. There could never be a happy ending for Stiles and Derek. There could only be humiliation, ridicule, and possible death. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting Stiles because he was foolish enough to be in love with Derek.

Furious frustration danced throughout his insides and he reached for the nearest tree, punching it so hard he knew he’d have to see Dr. Deaton. He slowly made his way back to town and confirmed with the doctor that he broke his hand.  After getting it wrapped, he made his way to Orchard House. He could hear Stiles playing the piano from across the road, the music frenzied and angry.

“I wonder what’s got him so upset,” Laura said from the outdoor chaise lounge she was resting on. Her eyes narrowed on Derek’s face before she looked back at the Stilinski home. Laura always saw too much but her only response was, “Oh.”

And that one word broke Derek. “I couldn’t. He wanted—and I couldn’t.”

“Oh Derek,” Laura said, getting up from her chaise to hug her brother close. He buried his face into her neck and choked back a sob. They stayed like this for several minutes until Derek heard feet fast approaching and he pulled back. He turned as Malia entered the side gate of the yard, her face beaming.

“I have the most exciting news,” she said before coming to a halt and taking in the scene. Her eyes became concerned as she looked at Derek. “Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” Derek said, his voice gruff to his own ears. “What’s this exciting news you have to share?”

She hesitated before she said, “Aunt Josephine is taking me on a European tour!  She wants me to focus on my art. We’re going to start off in Italy, then make our way through Germany before finally settling in France.”

“France?” Derek said like he had just been kicked. Malia and Stiles were going to be in France together?

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Malia said.

“Yes, wonderful,” Laura said. “You’ll have a marvelous time.”

“Perhaps I’ll find myself a beau while I am there,” she said with a wink before hurrying into the house to tell their parents.

“Maybe she will,” Derek said bitterly. He understood now. The first time he and Stiles were together, his father had been injured. The second time, Laura had gotten sick. And this time…Derek lost Stiles forever.

~*~

Stiles was gone the next day and Malia and Aunt Josephine left two weeks later. The house was unnaturally quiet without Cora and Malia around and Derek started to find it claustrophobic. His mood was so vitriol that the remaining household members began to walk on eggshells around him. He was just so angry about everything.

He was angry at Stiles for being naïve enough to think they could be together. He was angry that Cora and Malia were off in the world, while he was stuck in Beacon Hills, surrounded by empty memories that he could not escape from. But mostly, he was angry with himself for not being strong enough to tell Stiles the truth. That he _did_ love Stiles as Stiles loved him. And now he had lost him and it made his mood rank with despair.

 With each passing second, he felt like he was going to explode. He was snappy and angry about everything. His temper did not improve when a month passed and Malia wrote about what a marvelous time she was having, and… good news, Aunt Josephine was renting a villa for them once they arrived in France. Wasn’t that exciting?

After almost making Jennifer cry at dinner one evening, he felt the façade he was trying to maintain crumble around his feet. He apologized to Jennifer before making his way to his room so that he could stare blankly out his bedroom window. A knock on the door followed moments later and his mother walked in.

“Derek, what is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

“You’ve been like a caged animal since right before Malia left. I also know you’ve stopped writing, which tells me without question that something is wrong.”

Derek couldn’t admit the truth. He couldn’t admit that he was in love with a man, or that he pushed the love of his life away because he was a pathetic coward. He couldn’t admit he was tortured at night with nightmares that Malia and Stiles would meet up in France and fall in love. He couldn’t tell his mother any of this so he remained quiet. He heard his mother walk toward him until she was right beside him.

“Derek, look at me.” When he did, she sighed sadly. “What is troubling you, my beautiful boy? I’ve never known you to not write. You have so much creativity inside you and it breaks my heart that you’ve put down your pen.”

“I’m fine, Marmee.”

“No, you most definitely are not. But I think I might be able to offer you a solution to your ailment. Your father and I have been talking and we agree; it’s time to release you from your cage and let you run free.”

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“I know how much you’ve sacrificed for this family. I know you wanted to go to college, but you gave the opportunity to Cora so you could stay home and help the family after Laura got sick and your father was wounded. But Laura is stable now, as stable as she’ll ever be anyway, and your father is so much better than how he used to be. It’s your time now, honey. Go out and experience the world so you’ll be inspired to pick up your pen again.”

“Where would I go?” he whispered.

 “I know a woman in the San Francisco area. Her name is Kali. She runs a boarding house there. I’ve already written to her and she said you can stay with her. I think a change of scene will do wonders for you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving?”

 “Absolutely.” Talia clasped her son’s cheeks and brought his head down to her level so that she could kiss him on the forehead. Giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher, she added, “San Francisco is wonderful place to meet people…and to heal a broken heart.”

Derek became lightheaded. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Derek, I’m your mother. I know you better than you know yourself. Now go. Get out of this house and figure out your life. Find happiness.”

She smiled at Derek before she left him alone. Had his mother guessed his feelings for Stiles? If so, was she okay with it? Derek shook his head, his brain ablaze.  He couldn’t think about that right now.

Inside him, a little seedling of hope was beginning to bloom. For so long he had been the practical one, putting his family and what he thought to be right above everything else, and his reward was to lose his greatest chance of happiness. Now his parents were dangling a bit of freedom in front of him. He could escape Beacon Hills and the tortured feeling the town gave him these days.

Derek felt it as though someone had opened a window inside his soul and he could breathe the fresh air for the first time in weeks. If he couldn’t have Stiles, it was time to figure out his path in life. And perhaps, the answer would be waiting for him in San Francisco.


	7. A New Acquaintance

As homesick as Derek found himself, he loved the bustling excitement of San Francisco. It was ever changing with people coming and going from around the world. The constant buzz of the city offered Derek the much needed distraction he needed. And yet, Derek was still unable to come up with the inspiration he needed to pick up his pen and write. He got a job at a local newspaper writing advertisements, but when it came to actually creating a story, his mind was like a well that had run dry.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Kali Calder, was a widow who’d lost her husband, Ennis, in the war. She was a no nonsense woman who ran her boarding house like a well oiled machine. When Derek wasn’t working, he earned his keep by helping her around the house or watching her daughters, Lydia and Erica. The men who stayed at her bordering house came and went and Derek didn’t pay them much mind.

It was while he was walking up to the house that he ran into one of her boarders. Derek had been lost in thought, finally excited because he’d come up with a possible story idea he wanted to explore. The boarder was carrying a stack of papers that went flying over the muddy road upon their impact.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” Derek apologized as he crouched down to pick up the paperwork. As he gathered the parchment he recognized the format to be a handwritten story.

“It was my fault,” the man said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Derek handed him the stack and finally looked at the man. He was about his age with sandy brown hair that he wore unfashionable short and warm hazel eyes.

“Are you a writer?” Derek asked.

“Yes,” the man replied as he went to stand. Derek followed suit and noticed that the man was slightly taller than him, which was rare given that Derek was well over six feet.

“I’m Ethan,” the fellow said, sticking out his hand for Derek to shake. “Ethan Bhaer.”

“Derek Hale,” Derek replied as he shook his hand.

“How long have you been staying with Kali?” Ethan asked.

“About a month,” Derek answered.

“I just arrived myself from New York. I needed a change of scene,” Ethan explained and Derek knew by the way Ethan’s expression turned sorrowful that there was a something behind it. But he wasn’t one to pry. Ethan continued, “Kali’s family and mine go way back. When I heard she had opened up a boarding house, I asked if I could stay with her for awhile and she was good enough to say yes.”

“My mother met Kali at a war rally,” Derek explained. “I need a change of scene myself and Kali took me in.”

“Interesting,” Ethan said as he closely examined Derek. “Perhaps we can share a table at dinner and discuss what really brought us to San Francisco.”

“Perhaps,” Derek said, knowing he’d never mention Stiles.

“Well, I should go,” Ethan said. “I have to meet with my new publisher.”

“Goodbye,” Derek replied. They nodded to each other and Derek headed inside. He went to his room and sat at his makeshift desk. He rolled his nib pen in his hand before dipping it into his inkwell. The old exhilaration returned and the words started pouring from him.

~*~

Over the course of the next few months, Derek and Ethan became good friends. They had much in common with their love of writing and passion for politics, such as equal rights and improved educational standards. They would talk for hours, and yet, they both avoided discussing what really brought them to the bay area.

One day, Ethan approached Derek excitedly. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“I was going to work on my story,” Derek said. His story about a kidnapped sailor who sought revenge was coming along wonderfully.

“Why don’t you take a break tonight and come to the opera with me?”

“I don’t really have the clothes for it.”

“We’ll be sitting in the informal section. Say you’ll come,” Ethan pleaded.

“All right. Fine.”

“Splendid,” Ethan replied, reaching up to squeeze his arm. Derek tried to ignore the way he could feel the warmth of Ethan’s hand even after he let go. Ethan continued, “I’ll meet you at 7 PM in the parlor.”

“See you then.”

Derek went to his job and felt a strange sense of anticipation fill him the closer it got to 7 PM.  When he finally went home for the day, he bathed and put on his best suit, which wasn’t saying much. He went down to the parlor when it was time to meet Ethan and saw that the other man was waiting for him already. Ethan was also dressed in his finest and Derek hated to acknowledge that he looked good.

“Ready?” Ethan questioned and Derek nodded.

They walked to the opera house and to Derek’s bafflement went to the backstage door where the actors entered. Ethan knocked loudly and gave Derek a wink as they waited for a response.

“Finally here I see,” a boy said as he opened the door.

“Derek, this is Liam. He’s an actor in the show as well as a playwright. We met at a writing shop awhile back. Liam, this is my good friend, Derek Hale.”

Liam snorted. “Is that what you call it these days?”

Ethan elbowed him and Liam stepped back to let them in. They could hear music playing as the orchestra began to warm up. Liam led them to some stairs and then left them to finish getting ready. Derek followed Ethan up the staircase. There were two seats set up on a balcony that overlooked the stage as well as the backstage area.

“Here you are, sir,” Ethan said with a bow.

“This is great,” Derek replied as he sat down and looked around. He could feel Ethan’s eyes on him and he looked at him questioningly.

“Derek,” Ethan said after taking a deep breath. “I want to tell you the reason I came to San Francisco. I want to tell you because you don’t seem the type to pass judgment on someone.”

“I try not to,” Derek said and Ethan nodded.

“I came here to escape a broken heart,” Ethan said quietly and Derek had to strain to hear him over the singers below. “There was someone. His name was Danny.”

Derek felt his eyebrows rise but he said nothing as Ethan continued his story. “Danny and I met in school and we feel in love, but Danny was from a well known family in Boston. When we were in public, he never spoke to me. He never even acknowledged me. It went on this way for a year until I finally couldn’t handle the secrecy anymore. I told him I wouldn’t be his dirty secret. We got into a huge fight and I thought we were done, then a week later Danny arrived on my doorstep. He didn’t want to end our relationship so he agreed to go out with me. We went to a dancehall that was known for catering to men like us and danced the night away. It was the best moment of my life.” Ethan paused to smile before his expression turned sad. “When we left the hall, we were followed by three men. They said vile, disgusting things about us. We had almost reached my house when they attacked us. My brother, Aiden, was home, and when he heard the commotion, he stepped out to help us. One of the men had a knife and he stabbed my twin. Ai-Aiden was gravely wounded and he died in my arms. Danny was severely injured and put in the hospital for weeks. I sat with him every day until his family showed up. They said my presence was a vulgarity and they told me to stay away. I refused and when I went back to see him the next day, he was gone. Back to Boston from what I was told. I tried writing him but all my letters were returned. After losing the two most important men in my life, I decided I needed a fresh start, so I came here.”

“I’m-I’m so sorry,” Derek said, stunned and saddened for his friend.

“You’re not disgusted by me for loving another man?”

“No,” Derek replied.

“Because you’ve also loved a man?” Ethan asked and Derek startled. Ethan reached over and squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to tell me your story. I just wanted to let you know that you could talk to me if you needed to.”

Ethan didn’t let go of his hand and they continued to watch the performance. When the show was coming to an end, Derek finally said, “I was Danny.”

“What?” Ethan asked in confusion.

“I was in love with someone but when he asked me to run away with him, I refused. He left and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“It’s never too late,” Ethan told him gently but Derek just shook his head. Stiles made it clear he wanted nothing to do with Derek.

Ethan leaned close to him and said, “He’s a lucky man to have such a hold of your heart.”

Derek scoffed. “He’s so unlucky to have loved a fool like me.”

“Is that why you came to San Francisco?” Ethan asked. “To have a fresh start?”

“I thought so but now I realize I was looking for a distraction. Something to make me forget.”

Ethan nodded before closing the distance between them. He pressed his lips to Derek’s and Derek was too stunned to pull away.

When they finally separated, Derek asked, “Why did you kiss me?”

Ethan shrugged. “You want a distraction. I’m volunteering.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Derek asked in confusion. “After what happened to you in New York—after what happened to your brother and Danny—aren’t you worried that someone will hurt you again?”

“I’m not going to live my life in fear. If I do, they win. I can’t help feeling the way I do anymore than I can help breathing. I cannot prevent who I am attracted to. Aiden knew who I really was and he didn’t care. He loved and accepted me anyway and he lost his life protecting me. What honor would I bring to his memory by cowering and not living my life to the fullest? Aiden wanted me to be happy and I dammed well intend to.”

Derek stared at him, his heart racing. Maybe it was something in the San Francisco air, or maybe it was Ethan’s words, but Derek felt like a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying was lifted from his shoulders. His friend was right. Derek had let fear drive his decisions and it cost him Stiles. If he’d only had an ounce of Ethan’s bravery, perhaps he would be with the one he really wanted.

But he couldn’t be. Stiles was lost to him. And with that knowledge, he was suddenly filled with a dangerous recklessness.

Perhaps what he needed was to take a page from Ethan’s book. Perhaps it was time to give into the “unnatural” urges he denied himself. It was time to put away his cowardly fear and take the necessary step he needed to begin living his life the way he was always meant to.

Smiling slowly at Ethan, he leaned forward and pressed their mouths back together.

~*~

As Derek and Ethan’s friendship flourished so did Derek’s writing. When he wasn’t working or sneaking away to kiss Ethan senseless, he was writing until the late hours of the morning. He and Ethan were discreet to a point, but they didn’t exactly hide what they were doing either. They sat unusually close whenever they had their meals together, and Derek found to his surprise that he didn’t really care about the conversations that stopped whenever he and Ethan entered a room.

With each passing day, Derek grew more and more comfortable in his own skin. He and Ethan would go out riding together or they’d spend their evenings in Ethan’s room, reading from his immense book collection. Ethan’s easy acceptance of Derek made him more confident, and he slowly started to accept himself for who he was. 

One evening while they sat in Ethan’s room drinking coffee, Ethan looked at him and said, “We’re going out.”

“Where?” Derek asked.

Ethan just smiled and kissed Derek’s lips before pushing him towards the door. “Go put on your finest suit and report back here when you’re ready.”

“Yes sir,” he mock saluted.

They soon were headed to a part of town Derek had never visited. They made their way to what looked to be a tavern of some sort. Ethan knocked on the door and a panel in the middle of it slid open to reveal two watery eyes.

“Password,” the man said.

“Demon Wolf,” Ethan replied and the man nodded.

The panel slid shut and the door opened. Ethan and Derek stepped inside and headed for the center of the room. Derek sucked in a surprised breath as he looked around. This was a men’s only club—men like them. There were couples sitting close together drinking or kissing one another in a way that wasn’t decent for public eye. On the other side of the room was a stage, where a man dressed in drag danced around to the whistles of the other patrons.

“Derek,” Ethan said. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to stay if you’re uncomfortable.”

Derek swallowed nervously but he said, “No, it’s okay.”

They found a table in the middle of the room and sat down. A waiter came over and they both ordered drinks.

“How’d you find this place?” Derek asked.

“Kali told me. Her friend, Deucalion, owns the place.”

Derek nodded as he observed his surroundings. There were so many men in here, all like him. It should have made him uncomfortable, but like the day Ethan first kissed him, he felt something uncoil inside him. He wasn’t alone. There were dozens of men out there just like him. He leaned across the table and kissed Ethan.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

Ethan looked down and then glanced back up with a mischievous expression on his face. “You can always show me how thankful you are?”

Derek felt arousal dance across his skin. Despite their exchanged kisses over the past month, the pair hadn’t gone any further. Derek hadn’t even touched himself as penance for Stiles since they parted five months before. Sitting in the current environment, Derek felt that sense of recklessness return. More importantly, he felt safe. He wouldn’t be harmed in this club. The others around him wouldn’t know or care about what was about to take place between Ethan and himself.

His voice was heavy with lust as he said, “What did you have in mind?”

Ethan grinned before getting up. He straddled Derek’s lap before leaning forward to kiss him. Derek held Ethan to him as their tongued intertwined. He felt himself begin to harden and he knew Ethan felt it to from the way he began to rock on his lap. Derek could feel Ethan’s own arousal and his grip on him tightened. With their breath growing heavy, they continued to move against each other, the friction building until Ethan let out a sharp breath. Derek was too far gone to care that they were in public as he continued to thrust against the other man until he too reached his own peak.

Crashing back down to reality, Derek looked around in horror, but no one seemed to notice or care about their amorous act. Other couples were engaged in the same fornication. One man across the room even winked at Derek as his lover kneeled before him, pleasuring him with his mouth.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Ethan asked with shaken breath.

“Yeah,” Derek replied before kissing Ethan one more time. They drowned their drinks and paid their bill before making their way back to the boarding house. Derek wanted to go change out of his sticky clothes but Ethan had other intentions.

He grabbed Derek’s hand and led him into his room, shutting the door behind and twisting the lock into place. He began to remove his clothing before he stepped over to Derek and helped him remove his shirt. A part of Derek protested what they were about to do. His heart belonged to Stiles and only Stiles.

But this wasn’t about his heart. This was about distraction. And with that in mind, Derek kicked off his shoes, and lay across Ethan’s bed.

~*~

Derek was woken the next morning by the bed jumping and a loud rumbling. The room seemed to be shaking and he could hear the building groan in protest. He had been in earthquakes before, but nothing like this. He turned and saw Ethan sitting next to him, a look of terror on his face.

Derek grabbed him and pushed him out of the bed toward the desk that was in the room. It was a small space but they both crowded under it as best as they could as the room continued to rock. Bookcases were knocked down and glass shattered around them. When it finally stopped, both men were trembling.

“What was that?” Ethan asked, sounding as if he were on the verge of tears. Derek forgot that Ethan was from the east side of the country where they rarely got quakes.

“Earthquake. A bad one,” Derek said grimly. “We need get out of the building in case there’s been any structural damage. Get your clothes and make sure you have some shoes on to protect your feet.”

They found their clothing amongst the debris and quickly got out of the room. As they made their way into the hallway they were met with mayhem. Boarders were yelling and shoving their way out the main entrance. Derek looked around for Kali but didn’t see her. He did, however, see ten-year-old Lydia sitting in the corner of the parlor, crying hysterically.

“Lydia,” Derek exclaimed as he ran to her. “Where are your mother and sister?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia cried.

Derek glanced back at Ethan who nodded and began calling out for Kali and Erica as he made his way quickly through the main floor. Derek picked the little girl up and she wrapped her shaking limbs around him like a vine clinging to a tree. Ethan returned to his side.

“I couldn’t find them,” he said even as the ground began to shake again. Lydia let out a piercing scream and Derek held her tighter with one hand while he grabbed Ethan’s with his other. They stood in the entrance of the room until the shaking stopped and then they headed outside. It was there that they were met with a grim sight. Kali was alive, but eight-year-old Erica lay motionless in her arms, blood trickling down her forehead.

~*~

The great earthquake of October 21, 1868 killed thirty people in the surrounding neighborhood, including Erica. Derek mourned the feisty child they lost, even as he and Ethan helped Kali put her home back together. She was lucky in the fact that her house and livelihood hadn’t been too damaged. The sad irony was that the only real damage the home sustained was from a ceiling beam that had fallen, which had struck Erica in the head.  When Kali wasn’t taking care of her guests, she spent her time sitting in her room staring vacantly into space. Derek and Ethan spent more time with Lydia, helping the intelligent girl realize that her mother’s distance wasn’t her fault.

Derek knew it was no one’s fault. Even his, despite the fact that he’d had sex with Ethan the night before the quake. He wanted to feel guilty or feel like he was to blame as he had the previous times he’d given into his desire.

But he was done with taking the blame. He had lost enough already. So instead of feeling guilty, he got angry. He felt like he was being punished for something he couldn’t help and he was done with feeling that way. His urges weren’t unnatural and to hell with Providence for trying to make him feel otherwise.

So when he wasn’t helping Kali or having sex with Ethan, Derek wrote. He poured all his longing, his bitterness, and his anger into his writing.

He wrote. And he wrote.


	8. Starting Over

_Paris – November 1968_

Stiles had spent the past six months in a drunken haze. When he first arrived back in Europe, his uncle had made the decision that Stiles was in no fit state to work for the family company so he gave him a year to “soar his oats.” If Stiles wasn’t in top form by the end of the year, then he wouldn’t be offered a position again. He had taken his uncle up on his offer and had spent half a year drinking his days away and spending his nights sleeping with anyone who offered. Men. Women. Stiles didn’t care as long as they helped him forget for a little while.  

He was such bloody fool. He should have gone straight to France instead of going back to Beacon Hills for Cora’s wedding. It would have saved him a lot of grief.

Damn Derek and his ridiculous morals!

Stiles should have taken Jackson up on one of his numerous offers. It wasn’t like Stiles was a virgin when he slept with Derek so he wasn’t exactly saving himself for the guy. He had gone to boarding school after all. But he’d refused all opportunities throughout his university career. And why? Because he was too hung up on the one man who never had the balls to be with him anyway. Four damn years of living like a priest for nothing.

_Derek wasn’t nothing,_ a treacherous voice whispered inside his head. _Being with him was the most amazing moment of your life and sleeping with all of Europe won’t erase that. He just didn’t love you._

And that was the heart of it all. He had loved Derek to the point of distraction and Derek hadn’t cared enough to fight for him. He hadn’t wanted Stiles the way Stiles wanted him. With all his heart.  At least if he’d slept with Jackson, maybe he would have eventually fallen in love with him. Jackson hadn’t given a damn that they would have been viewed as an “abomination” in polite society (and God, did that word make Stiles seethe).

Shaking off his morose thoughts, Stiles entered the dance hall where the ball he was attending was being held. His latest fling, Marie something, was clinging to his arm, her breast pressing into him. He would bed her before the night was out, but he knew it would feel just like all his others encounters had felt. Empty.

As he went to retrieve some punch for his date, he noticed a young woman standing in the distance. Her mahogany locks were piled artistically on top of her head and she wore an ice blue ball gown that fit her frame perfectly. She was so beautiful Stiles felt his breath catch in surprise. He walked toward her like a moth to the flame, and it was only as he got close that he was startled to realize he knew her.

Malia. Malia Hale.

But she didn’t look like the Malia Hale he knew. The Malia he knew was a young girl. The beauty before him was a woman, sophisticated and graceful. She began to scan the room as if looking for someone, and Stiles felt his shoulders straighten in hopes that she would notice him. When her gaze finally fell upon him, her mouth formed into an O before her lips curved into a glorious smile. Stiles couldn’t help but grin back as he approached her.

“Malia Hale! What are you doing here in France?” he asked as he grasped her hands in his.

“I’m here with Aunt Josephine. She brought me to Europe so that I could practice my art. She’s friends with the host of the ball and when they invited us, I simply had to say yes. You know how I’ve always loved dancing.”

 He was about to ask her to put his name on her dance card when another person he knew approached.

“Scott? Scott McCall?” Stiles asked.                                                                                          

“Stiles! Hello!” his college chum said as he reached out to shake his hand.

“Why are you in France? I thought you were working on becoming a doctor,” Stiles said, his eyes going from Malia to Scott and then back. He couldn’t help but notice the familiar way Scott placed his hand on Malia’s arm. He didn’t like it.

“I am,” Scott replied. “I’m studying my residency in Paris.”

“That’s… that’s great.”

“We’ll have to get caught up sometime,” Scott suggested.

“Yes, we will,” Stiles said, his eyes not leaving Malia.

“Yes, please do,” she said, giving him a slight curtsey before Scott swept her onto the dance floor.

“We certainly will,” Stiles said as he followed their movement.

~*~

Stiles and Malia began to meet once a week after their encounter at the ball, going on carriage rides or taking walks around the local park. Being with Malia was like being home for Stiles. He had always loved the Hale family. He envied them in a way because of how close they were. Stiles loved his father, but he’d barely seen the old man growing up and living with him for a short time couldn’t give them the connection that the Hale family had. He’d often wished he could be a part of their family, engulfed in their immense love.

But there was also something new between Stiles and Malia that hadn’t been there before. There was the awareness of a man and woman who found each other attractive. Stiles often found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her. Would her lips feel as soft as they looked? Would they taste as sweet as they appeared?

It was desire he felt for her and he was okay with that. Desire was safe. It was when emotions became involved that things became dangerous. But Stiles knew his heart was incapable of ever loving again so what he felt for Malia was lust and companionship. Or so he thought.

He went to call on her the morning before Christmas. He was taking her shopping as she wanted to find something for Scott. Despite their weekly visits, Malia was being openly courted by his friend. He wanted to tell her to stop being foolish over Scott; that his friend would never love her like she deserved. He knew that Scott was in love with a girl named Kira, but because of her Asian ancestry, he wouldn’t marry her. Interracial relationships were just as forbidden as a relationship between two men. Quite frankly, Stiles had lost a lot of respect for Scott when he had refused to man up and offer Kira his hand. What made men such cowards when it came to love? Why was it better to choose the safe option instead of following your heart?

He came upon Malia sitting in the parlor room of her aunt’s rented villa. She held a folded letter in her hand, which she was twisting in circles as she chewed absently on her bottom lip.

“News from home?” Stiles asked as he sat in the spot next to her.

“Yes,” Malia said with a frown. “Mother said that Laura has weakened considerably as of late. She had to give up her work at Deaton’s entirely.”

“Laura’s one of the strongest people I know. I’m sure this will pass,” he tried to assure her. Malia nodded but didn’t look comforted. He tried not to look too eager as he asked, “What other news can you share from home?”

“Derek moved to San Francisco some months ago,” Malia said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Malia never brought up her brother before and Stiles hadn’t wanted to ask.

“Oh?” he said, trying to appear casual.

“They had a terrible earthquake back in October. The bordering house he was staying in was damaged.”

Stiles felt his stomach drop to the floor. He had to restrain himself from reaching for the letter in her hand. “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. He wasn’t hurt in the slightest. He’s befriend a man named Ethan who is also staying at the same house. They’re helping the housekeeper with repairs.”

Jealousy spiked through Stiles’ veins, fast and true. He got up and began to pace the room. Who was this Ethan and why was he important enough to mention in a letter?

“I’m glad Derek wasn’t hurt,” Stiles mustered, his voice angry to his own ears.

Malia sighed and Stiles glanced at her. She suddenly looked tired.

“Stiles, why are you here?”

“To call on a friend,” Stiles said in confusion.

“A friend. Yes, of course.” Malia got up from her seat and made her way to the front door.  “I’m sorry, Stiles, but I’ve decided not to go shopping today after all. I was inspired to paint last night and I’m going to give my new work to Scott as a present instead.”

“Why do you keep on with this pretense?” Stiles asked with strange bitterness.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t love Scott McCall anymore than he loves you.”

Malia looked at him coldly. “I’m well aware of Scott’s feelings for the woman named Kira. He’s been quite frank about them.  But he can’t be with her and I can’t be with the one I love. Why shouldn’t we be together then?”

“Is that what you want out of life?” he asked, ignoring her declaration that she loved someone else. “An empty marriage without love? I know you, Malia. That won’t make you happy.”

“Once Scott’s done with his residency, he’ll be able to provide for me in a way I’ve always wanted. We’ll have a fulfilling life together and who knows. Perhaps love with find its way into our relationship.”

Stiles felt his temper skyrocket. How could Malia be so foolish? If she was going to throw her life away, why waste it on someone like Scott? He walked into the hallway and grabbed his coat from the nearby coat rack, putting it on before handing Malia her own. She looked at him with raised eyebrows, a trait that was so Hale it made his heart ache.

“I need some fresh air. If you don’t want to go shopping, let us go for a walk around the villa grounds.”

She nodded and they went outside, her hand resting on his arm. He tried to ignore the way the heat of it seeped into his coat, warming him in a way he didn’t want or need. Once they reached some trees that were out of sight of the house, he reached inside his coat for his flask. He unscrewed the top and took a long hard sip of the whiskey within.

“You’ve changed,” Malia said with disdain in her voice.

“Life will do that to you,” Stiles answered cynically, taking another gulp as the names Ethan and Scott swirled through his mind like poison.

“What is the matter with you?” Malia asked impatiently. “You’re drinking yourself into an early grave and I’ve watched you’ve carefully since we renewed our friendship. You’re tot-hunting with anyone who catches your eye, and they flock to you like dogs in heat.”

“Desire is a powerful thing,” Stiles responded before eyeing her curiously. “Have you ever felt desire, Malia?”

“Desire is a sin,” Malia said, turning her nose at him.

Stiles laughed. “What is with you Hales and your precious sin?” He took a step toward her until her back was against a tree and he was all but pressed against her.

“Do you think Scott will make you feel desire?”

“No. He’ll give me friendship and maybe love one day.”

“Love is an illusion, my darling. But desire? That’s a real, tangible thing. That’s something you can physically touch and feel.”

“You’re wrong. Love isn’t an illusion. It’s real. Haven’t you discovered it at all with the many men and women you go gallivanting around with?”

Stiles tried to mask his surprise. “You’re not shocked that I’ve been with men?”

“No,” Malia answered simply before changing the subject. “You didn’t express curiosity when I said I was in love with someone earlier. Don’t you want to know who?”

“Would it make a difference?” Stiles asked cruelly.

Malia blanched but she lifted her head proudly as she said, “I know love isn’t an illusion. I know because I love you. I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen years of age.”

“You’re not in love with me, Malia,” Stiles explained, instantly dismissing her words. “What you feel is lust.”

“Are you trying to tell me my own heart?”

“Do you know why people flock to me like ‘dogs in heat?’ Would you like me to show you?” Stiles asked, pressing completely against her.

A warning flashed through his brain screaming that he was behaving abhorrently, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He was angry and jealous and he wanted to lash out at the person who told him about Ethan.  He eyed the rapidly beating pulse in her neck.

“Have you ever been touched by a man, Malia?” He placed his lips to her pulse, sucking on the skin delicately.

 “Stop this, it’s improper,” Malia said, even as she tilted her head to give him better access.

“I can show you what you’ve really wanted all these years. I can show you desire,” he whispered against her skin. “Would you like that? So after you enter your passionless marriage with Scott, you’ll have at least experienced it once in your life.”

“H-How?” she replied shakily.

“Lift up the front of your skirt,” Stiles ordered before nibbling on her neck. Her responding gasp made him smile.

“I won’t,” Malia said. “We’re in public. Have you no decency?”

“None,” Stiles answered.

She pushed at his chest and he stepped back in confusion. He blanched at the look of hurt on her face, the expression breaking through to his alcohol numbed brain.

“You seem to think I’m a fool,” Malia said furiously. “But I see more than you realize. I know what this is really about. And I won’t be a substitute for anyone.”

She turned and walked away, her fists bunched at her sides. Even in her anger, she had a delicate gait that kept Stiles’ attention. He watched her until she disappeared into the villa and then he cursed loud and long. What the hell was he doing? He was disgusted with himself. Derek messed him up to the point where he couldn’t see straight. How could he treat Malia that way? It bothered him more than he could say to watch her walk away from him, but she was right. She deserved better.

But better wasn’t Scott McCall. He loathed the idea that Malia might give her hand to him. Scott wouldn’t appreciate her. He didn’t know her like Stiles did. He would never understand that underneath Malia’s surface beauty, she was a sensitive soul who hid her feelings behind a wall of indifference. Scott would never get that Malia’s drawings were more than a fanciful way to pass the time, but in reality were pieces of herself on display for the world to judge. She was, quite frankly, wonderful. She deserved more than what she was settling for, and he’d be dammed if that person was going to be Scott McCall.

Stiles looked down at the flask in his hand and then pitched it into the trees. Enough was enough. It was time to let Derek go.

~*~

Malia was seething as she paced around the parlor room. She was never so disappointed in anyone in her life. How could Stiles treat her like a common doxy? She wanted to cry and rage at the same time. Stiles had always been a hero to her, someone she admired and looked up to. And over the years, her childish crush had turned into deep, unrelenting love. She knew she didn’t have a chance with him. She wasn’t stupid.

She knew that there was something between Derek and Stiles, even if she didn’t understand it. Something had happened between them right before Malia left for Europe; something that had made Derek unbearable and Stiles a ghost of his former self. It was Stiles that she worried about most.

After seeing the shell of the man he had become, she hadn’t been surprised when she discovered his reputation as a scalawag. She knew he had lain with men as well as women, and she hadn’t lied to Stiles when she said it hadn’t shocked her. She had grown up with Derek after all. She knew that peculiarity wasn’t as unnatural as people seemed to think. But the fact that Stiles seemed to use it as revenge…she hated Derek for that. Hated him for having what she could never have and not treasuring it like she would have.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. One of the maids walked in with a letter addressed to her. She saw Stiles’ name on the letterhead and felt her heart jolt. She quickly ripped open the sealed envelope and began to read.

_My Dearest Malia,_

_There are not enough words I can give you to express how deeply sorry I am for how I treated you. By the time you receive this letter, I will already be on my way to Paris to accept my uncle’s offer to take a position within the family company. I also want to be completely honest with you, Malia. I hated seeing you walk away from me, and I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. And though it’s unfair, I also plead with you not to accept Scott’s hand. You deserve better, and I hope to make myself worthy of you._

_Your Stiles_

It was foolish of her to forget that Stiles wasn’t in love with her, but after reading his letter, her heart beat with hope anyway. Perhaps Stiles was finally ready to move on from his heartache. As she reread his note, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she had a chance to win his love after all.


	9. A Change In The Tide

_San Francisco – May 1869_

Derek sat back and cricked his neck. He had spent all night finishing the final touches of his story. He stood, letting his limbs stretch, even as he tried to suppress his excitement. In the past seven months, he had finished two full length novels and several short stories. The short stories he’d been able to successfully sell to some magazines, but his novels were something different. One, he knew would never see the light of day. It was the one he began to write shortly after the earthquake. It was too raw, too personal. He hadn’t held anything back, writing about everything from growing up in Beacon Hills to his forbidden love. It wasn’t marketable, but it felt so good to write.

The other story was the one he’d come up with the day he’d met Ethan. It was about a sailor bent on avenging his kidnapping. It was something he felt would appeal to the mass markets and he couldn’t wait for Ethan to read it. If Ethan liked it, he promised to pass it on to his publisher. As Derek gathered his manuscript, his eyes fell on the two letters he’d recently received.

One was from Cora. To his utter confusion, she had moved back to Beacon Hills without Isaac though she wouldn’t give him a reason why. He had written her back immediately and threatened Isaac’s life if he’d hurt his baby sister, but Cora’s recent letter had assured him that her marriage were perfectly blissful and she would appreciate if he didn’t maim her husband, thank you very much.

The other was from Malia. Derek’s lips took a cynical twist as he stared at the letter. Malia had confirmed his worst nightmares. She had run into Stiles and the two had grown close. Reading between the lines, it sounded like Stiles had slept with half of France, but she had indicated that he finally joined his uncle’s business and seemed to be settling down. She spoke fondly of him and Derek had felt sick with the jealousy he had no right to feel. He had gone to Ethan the day he received the letter and had given him the experience he saw in Deucalion’s tavern, kneeling before him with his mouth ready.

The two men had grown close, though Derek felt constant relief that there was no love between them. Ethan was a good friend who continued to distract him whenever he needed it. He was lucky to have him in his life.  

As he left his room to head to Ethan’s, he passed Lydia in the hall. She had her nose in a book and barely acknowledged him. The girl was by far the smartest person in the house. She already had plans to go to college and she was only eleven. He knew she would go far in life. It was her idea to call for her paternal grandmother after the earthquake. The woman had moved in shortly after and between the two women, they’d finally been able to get Kali out of her deep depression. She wasn’t back to her normal self, and after losing her daughter Derek knew she never would, but she had at least returned to the land of the living.

Derek arrived at Ethan’s door and knocked loudly. When Ethan told him to come in, Derek entered the room, heading over to where the other man sat at his desk writing.

“Hello,” Derek said, leaning down to brush his lips against Ethan’s. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

Derek handed him the manuscript and Ethan’s face lit up.

“You finished.”

“Yes, just this morning.”

“That’s wonderful, Derek. Your first novel! You should be very proud.”

“I want you to be honest with me. If you hate it, tell me.”

“I’m always honest with you,” Ethan said with a smirk. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done.”

Derek nodded and then excused himself so he could head to work. Over the next few days, he barely saw Ethan, which was strange because they normally had their meals together, but Derek knew Ethan was busy writing his own novel. His first book had recently gone through the roof in sales and his publisher was already demanding a new one. He just hoped Ethan would have time to spare for his own novel.

After a full week without any communication, he finally couldn’t take the suspense anymore. He went to Ethan’s room and knocked on the door. Ethan answered with his shirt half buttoned and his short hair sticking up at odd angles. He looked completely frazzled.

“Oh, Derek. Hello! Come in.”

Ethan stepped back and Derek entered the room. He looked around at the chaos surrounding him. Items were thrown everywhere, but what really drew his attention were the two huge traveling cases half filled on Ethan’s bed.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ethan replied, cupping the back of his neck with his hand. Finally, he said, “Oh hell, I don’t know how to tell you this, so here.”

He handed Derek an envelope postmarked New York. Derek carefully unfolded the letter and briefly skimmed over the content.

“This is from Danny. Your ex,” Derek said.

“Yes,” Ethan acknowledged. “He’s fully recovered from his injuries and he wants to start again. He said he was irate when he discovered his family’s treatment of me—”

“I know, I read the letter,” Derek told him with a grin. “So you’re headed back to New York.”

“Yes,” Ethan replied. “I’m sorry, Derek, I know after our time together—”

“We’re friends, Ethan,” Derek reminded him. “I’m happy for you.”

Ethan grinned. “I’ve never stopped loving him.”

“I know,” Derek replied, giving Ethan a hug. “You deserve to be with the one you love.”

“So do you,” Ethan said, whispering against his neck. Derek shrugged.

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed.” He went to the bed and folded one of Ethan’s shirts. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Derek nodded, feeling sad. While he wasn’t in love with Ethan, he was going to miss him. “Will you keep in touch?”

“Of course,” Ethan replied.

Derek gave him a small smile before saying, “I’ll get out of your way and let you finish packing.”

He turned to leave but Ethan called out his name to stop him.

“By the way, I finished your story.”

Derek felt his stomach knot with nerves. “And?”

“It’s a good, solid story.”

Something in Ethan’s expression made Derek wary. “But you didn’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You promised me complete honesty, Ethan.”

“Okay,” Ethan said. He reached for the manuscript where it lay on his desk. He walked over to Derek and tentatively handed it to him. “Derek, you are an amazing, incredible person with such tremendous heart, but I didn’t see any of that in your story. There was no presence of _you_ in your work. Without that, the story fell flat.”

“I see,” Derek replied, feeling the weight of his failure in his stomach.

“There’s more to you than this,” Ethan told him.

He nodded and swallowed past the painful lump of disappointment that was lodged in his throat. He gave Ethan a weak smile and left the room. When he arrived at his own room, he threw the story in the fireplace in despair. He turned around to find a match and it was then that he noticed an envelope had been shoved under his door. He picked it up, his brow furrowing as he recognized his mother’s familiar scrawl.

_Dearest Derek,_

_I’m sorry to write to you with such sad news, but Laura has taken a turn for the worst. Please come home as soon as you can._

_Your loving Marmee_

Derek felt his stomach cramp and he let out a pained cry. _Not Laura. Please not Laura._ He moved to the corner of his room where he stored his travel trunk and began to pack methodically.

~*~

Derek arrived in Beacon Hills the next morning. He left his baggage at the station, too eager to get home. As he approached Orchard House, he noticed Cora. Despite the sad circumstances that brought him home, he couldn’t help but grin as he noticed his little sister. It had been almost a year since they saw each other last.

“Cora!” he shouted. She turned around and Derek almost tripped. Her body was swollen with child.

“Did you swallow a pumpkin?” he asked stupidly.

“You’re such a dolt,” she said with a fond roll of her eyes.

“So this was why you came home?” Derek said as he reached out to touch her belly. The baby chose that moment to kick and Derek jerked his hand back in surprise. Cora just laughed.

“I wanted Marmee nearby when I gave birth,” Cora explained. “Isaac is going to be joining us closer to the date I’m expected to go into labor.”

“You aren’t going to go this week, are you?” he asked in concern. Granted Cora was pretty petite, but she looked like she was overdue.

“I’m not due for another month,” she said, rubbing her back.

“I’m going to be an uncle,” Derek whispered because his voice was too choked with emotion to speak at a normal level.

Cora reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” Derek said before glancing toward the house. “How is Laura?”

“She’s much changed since you saw her last,” Cora said sadly.

He nodded and entered the house. He exchanged hugs with Jennifer and his father before he headed upstairs to Laura’s room. His mother was coming out of it and hurried to hug her son.

“Thank Providence,” she murmured. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t get the letter in time.”

Derek’s heart felt like it was in a vise. “Is it that serious?”

His mother couldn’t respond. She motioned toward the room without a word and headed downstairs. Taking a deep breath, he entered Laura’s room and then went shock still. He barely recognized the woman lying in the bed. She was so thin she was practically nonexistent. Her skin was the color of candle wax and her hair looked like straw. Her eyes were glassy as they focused on Derek.

“’Bout time you showed up,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Derek rushed to her side and embraced her carefully.

“Laura,” was all he could say as he buried his face in her hair.

~*~

Over the next week, Derek barely left Laura’s side. He hand fed her broth and read her some of the short stories he’d had published. As he finished reading one, he heard her sigh. When he looked at her, he found that she was not paying attention to him in the slightest.

“What’s got your attention?” he asked.

She shook her head as a tear streamed down her cheek. Derek reached for it and wiped it a way with fingers that trembled. Laura was never one to cry, no matter the emotion she was feeling. Seeing her in tears rattled him.

“I don’t want to die,” she finally said.

“You’re not going to die.”

“Derek, please,” she said tiredly, her eyes silently begging for his acceptance.

Derek felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he slowly nodded and Laura’s face turned to relief.

“Then fight this,” he pleaded.

“I have no more fight to give,” Laura replied. “I used to have such energy, remember? Now I’m so tired I can barely move. I’m exhausted all the time, Derek, and I hate it. I had so many plans for myself and now I have no life at all. ”

“You can get through this,” Derek encouraged.

“No Derek,” she said simply. “I’m tired of fighting. Tired of being angry. I don’t want to die with this anger in my heart.”

“Laura, look at me,” Derek said, picking up her hand and holding it against his cheek. When she looked at him, he told her, “I promise, I won’t let you die. I’ll write you into one of my stories and even if it’s a hundred years from now, people will know you. And you will live forever.”

Laura just smiled sadly at him. “You’ve changed. San Francisco was good for you. Or was it Ethan Bhaer that was good for you?”

“Ethan’s just a friend.”

“Because your heart belongs to Stiles?”

Derek nearly dropped her hand. “What?”

“I always knew, you know.”

“What?”

“How you really felt about Stiles.” She pressed a comforting hand against his cheek. “You love him. You’ve been in love with him for years. What I could never figure out though is why you let him go. Why Derek?”

“Because I was a coward,” Derek admitted. “Because I was afraid people would view us as unnatural and they’d make us suffer for it.”

“What people?”

“Everyone. Society.”

Laura laughed weakly. “Since when have the Hales ever cared what people think?” She turned her head to stare at the ceiling, a sheen of tears evident in her eyes. “Life is so precious and so unfairly short.”

Everything inside Derek hurt and yet Laura squeezed his hand with surprising strength, offering _him_ comfort.

“Promise me, Derek,” Laura said as their eyes met again. “Promise me that no matter what, you’ll allow yourself happiness.”

“I promise,” he whispered but that didn’t seem to satisfy Laura.

“No, you don’t understand,” she said with frustration. “Promise me you’ll let yourself find love, no matter who it’s with.”

Derek didn’t think he could keep that promise but he nodded anyway. “I promise.”

Laura’s face relaxed, becoming serene.  “You have so much love to give. Don’t ever let anyone take that away from you.”

She closed her eyes as though the conversation had completely drained her. Letting go of his sister’s hand, he grabbed the food tray where it rested next to the bed and stood up.

“I’ll take this to Jennifer.”

Laura nodded and Derek left the room. He made it only a few steps before he stopped, a swell of emptiness hitting him so hard he gasped out loud. He dropped the tray, sending the dishes crashing to the ground, and ran back into Laura’s room. But it was too late.

A peaceful smile rested on her face, but Laura’s spirit was gone.

~*~

The day they buried Laura, it rained, which matched the melancholy of Derek’s mood perfectly. Cora hadn’t been able to attend. As grief stricken as she was, the family had worried she might go into premature labor. They sent for Isaac and he arrived in time to make sure his stubborn wife didn’t attempt to walk to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery for the funeral.  

Malia was also absent. They had received word that Aunt Josephine had caught pneumonia and at her age, the doctors didn’t want to move her. As their aunt’s companion, Malia had little choice but to stay in France with their ailing family member. Not that she was alone. Malia had let the family know Stiles had barely left her side, comforting her through her grief.

The house was unbearably quiet when they returned from the cemetery, aside from the spontaneous burst of tears from various family members. Derek felt suffocated and he headed up to the attic where he and sisters had spent hours of their childhood playing. When he saw the pile of toys from Laura’s youth, he wanted to yell out his pain. Instead, he turned to his writing desk.

On top of it lay the manuscript that he had begun to write shortly after the earthquake. It was pretty much an autobiographical story about his life and his love for Stiles. But he had promised Laura she would live forever and by God she would, so he started the story over.

He changed the hero to a heroine and gave her the masculine nickname “Jo.” He told of her friendship with the boy next door who also went by a nickname, much like Stiles did. He wrote until his fingers went numb and he worked that way for the next few weeks.

The family didn’t bother him much. He was too lost in his writing to pay attention to anything anyway. He only returned to the world upon hearing the sad news that their aunt had died, and for some reason she had left Derek her house. He didn’t know what he was going to do with that monstrosity. His mother had suggested he turn it into a school, but that reminded him of Stiles and his desire to be a teacher, and he withdrew back into his own world.

When he finally finished, he felt lighter than he had since Laura died. He quickly wrapped the story in packaging and sent it to Ethan without hesitation. 

But as was life, whenever things began to go smoothly for Derek, Providence liked to remind him of how chaotic things could be. So a couple of days after Derek mailed his manuscript, Cora went into labor.


	10. A Reunion

“Are you ready?” Jennifer asked with a bright smile as she led Derek to the room his sister was staying in.

“Yes,” Derek replied, eager to meet his niece or nephew.

She knocked once on the door and then entered the room. Derek followed her and saw Cora and Isaac lying side by side on the bed with an impossibly small child between them.

“Meet your nephew,” Cora said, beaming.

“And your niece,” their mother added from the corner. It was then that Derek noticed, not one but two little ones in the room.

“Twins?” he said in disbelief.

“Can you believe it?” Cora said proudly.

“Derek, sit,” Marmee ordered. He sat down in one of the room’s chairs and their mother placed the small little girl in his arms. His heart turned over as he stared at the infant’s delicate features. Though her face was swollen from the birth, there was no mistaking it.

“She looks like Laura,” he all but choked out. The baby took that moment to open her mouth and let out a noisy scream. Derek laughed even as he cuddled his niece closer. “Sounds like Laura, too.”

“That’s why we’ve decided to name her Laura,” Cora said. Derek felt his eyes wet with tears. He knew how much his older sister would have loved that.

Clearing his throat, he said, “And what about my nephew?”

“He’s to be named Camden after my brother,” Isaac said and Derek nodded. Isaac’s brother had fallen during the Battle of Gettysburg. It was a beautiful way to honor both siblings.

~*~

A month later, Derek came home from running an errand to find a large package waiting for him. He opened it up in confusion and then felt his eyes widen.

“My book,” he said as looked over the typed version of his manuscript. He quickly searched the rest of the package and found a note tucked inside. Unfolding it, he read Ethan’s familiar scrawl.

_My Dear Friend Derek,_

_Congratulations on this masterpiece. Once I started reading it, I couldn’t put it down. When I showed it to my publisher, he refused to give it back and said I could buy the book if I wanted to read it again! This story was like reading a piece of your soul and I thank you for letting me see it. My publisher will be in contact with you soon to discuss payment, but I’ve included a part of your advancement inside this package._

_Yours Respectfully,_

_Ethan_

_(P.S. I appreciate you letting Jo end up with the dashing Professor Bhaer, but I fear you may have incited the wrath of readers everywhere who will want your heroine to end up with Laurie.)_

Derek laughed when he read that. The truth was, he couldn’t let his heroine end up with Laurie. He knew it wasn’t in the cards for him to end up with Stiles, and he couldn’t allow Jo that ending either. He put Ethan’s note in his pocket and looked at the check that was included. His mind reeled when he saw that it was for $100. What on earth would he do with that much money? He grabbed his manuscript and hurried to show everyone his news.

There was a celebration that night in honor of Derek’s success. Cora kept grumbling about the fact that he had killed off her character, but he explained why he couldn’t kill off Meg, the character he had created an honor of Laura. He had promised Laura that he would make her live forever, and if she didn’t die in the novel, she always would. Cora relented slightly after hearing that. Isaac was entirely too smug that he not only got Cora in real life, but a March girl in the story as well. He quickly stopped boasting though upon his wife’s glare.

It was while they were celebrating that they heard a knock on the door. Derek excused himself to answer it. He was not expecting the person on the other side and he couldn’t move upon seeing who it was.

“Stiles?” he whispered.

“Hello Derek,” Stiles replied. Derek could only stare at him. Stiles looked different—older. He had scruff on his face and new lines around his mouth and eyes.

“Stiles,” Derek repeated before bringing the man into a bear hug. Stiles was stiff for a moment before he returned Derek’s embrace. Derek held him tighter as he stated, “I thought you were in France.”

“We decided to come back after poor Aunt Josephine passed away.”

Derek pulled back at that. “We?”

Stiles smiled brightly though it didn’t quite reflect in his eyes as he moved back. “I’m glad I ran into you so you’d be the first to know. Derek, I want to introduce you to my fiancée.”

He stepped away and Derek could see the sophisticated woman coming up the house’s walkway. He hardly recognized her in the extravagant travelling gown she was wearing. When he did, he sucked in a sharp breath as if someone had just kicked him in the stomach.

“Hello Derek,” Malia said.

He looked from Stiles to Malia. Malia looked radiant. Stiles looked like he wished he was somewhere else.

“Malia, hello,” he said, bringing his youngest sister in for a hug. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you,” she replied. She let him go and latched onto Stiles’ arm. “I’m so excited to see everyone again.”

Derek pasted a smile on his face and stepped out of the way to let the couple pass. He sat down beside Cora as the family celebrated the return of their youngest along with the news that they were to welcome Stiles into the family. Derek remained quiet throughout the remainder of the festivities though he felt several pairs of eyes on him throughout the night.

His mother kept watching him in concern and he saw Cora look from him to Stiles several times, confusion on her face. Perhaps she was confused by the fact that the two old friends barely acknowledged each other. She finally got up and placed Laura in his lap and he gave her a thankful smile. He focused on his little niece like she was a lifesaver being thrown at a drowning man. It was either that or he’d have to acknowledge one pair of eyes that had barely left his face all evening. Eyes the color of amber that had haunted him for far too long.

~*~

The Hales steered clear of Derek for the next week. It was probably for the best. He was in such a foul temper, he couldn’t even stand himself. It was his own fault, really. He had let Stiles go and he had no right to be upset that he had moved on with Malia. They made a striking pair and Derek could tell Stiles was crazy about her. Which only made him feel worse.

Finally, after another week, Talia Hale had had enough. She knocked on her son’s bedroom door and entered without waiting for a reply. Derek was lying listlessly in bed.

“Get out of that bed,” she ordered. “We are going out.”

“Where?” Derek said dully.

“Get up and you’ll find out.”

When he finally made his way downstairs, he was greeted by not only his mother but Cora as well.

“Where are the children?” he asked.

She looked apologetic as she said, “With Stiles and Malia.”

“Oh,” he responded, feeling his crushing depression settle even further into his skin.

“Come along,” their mother ordered. They walked outside and entered the buggy William Hale had arranged for his family. Talia took the reins and snapped her wrists. The horses took off at a brisk pace. A short time later they arrived at Aunt Josephine’s house, Plumfield.

“What are we doing here?” Derek asked in bafflement.

“I thought you’d like a closer look at your inheritance,” Marmee replied.

“What am I going to do with this great big house?” Derek questioned as they got down from the carriage and entered the imposing building. Most of the furniture was already covered from Malia and Aunt Josephine’s time away in Europe. He looked around the large space and shook his head.

“Why on earth would she leave this to me?”

“Perhaps it was her way of telling you to settle down,” Cora teased but their mother gave her a sharp shake of the head. But it was too late and Derek’s spirits plunged even further.

“Or perhaps she left it to you to give you guidance,” their mother said. “Look at this place, Derek. I said it before and I’ll say it again. Wouldn’t it make a wonderful school? Providence knows this town could use one. The public school is a disgrace.”

She patted his cheek and she and Cora left. Derek sat on one of the stairs that led to the upper floor. A school? No. He had only one desire in life, career wise, and that was to become a published writer. He already reached that goal. Besides, it was always Stiles’ dream to teach, not his.

On that bitter thought, he got up to his feet and walked out the entrance, slamming the door behind him.


	11. Moving On

Stiles knocked on the door to Orchard House, hoping against hope that Derek would answer. He hadn’t seen him since the night Stiles returned to Beacon Hills. How was that even possible? Did Derek never leave his room?

He sighed internally as Malia answered the door, her expression bright and eager. It was so incredibly unfair that he couldn’t be in love with her. She was everything a man could want. She was intelligent, graceful, and beautiful. And for a short time, Stiles had tricked himself into believing he _was_ in love with her—hence the proposal. But it took less than a second in Derek’s presence to realize that all he felt for Malia was fondness and desire. He loved her, without question. But he wasn’t _in_ love with her.  Apparently, he was dammed to only love one person and that person seemed to have dropped off the face of the planet.

“Are you ready for our walk?” Malia asked.

“Of course,” Stiles replied, offering his arm.

It was a thing they did. Every morning after breakfast, they would go for a stroll through the woods. It made the façade of their great love affair look real to the most skeptical of doubters. He was pretty sure Malia was the only one who noticed how fake his smile was whenever he looked at her, or how forced his laugh was whenever she said something funny.

“So,” Malia began, “I thought we could move to France permanently once we marry. We were so happy there.”

Stiles’ heart beat erratically at the thought of being so far away from Derek again. “What if we stay here?”

“Here?” Malia said with a frown. “But your company doesn’t have a branch in Beacon Hills.”

“We could always start one.”

Malia laughed. “Your uncle would never go for it. It’s not like Beacon Hills ever has a chance of becoming economically viable. There’s hardly any commerce here at all.”

“Well then, I’d find a different career.”

Malia patted his arm. “Oh Stiles, that’s the one thing I love most about you, your wicked sense of humor.”

He opened his mouth to argue that he was being completely serious but he was suddenly too mentally exhausted to bother. They walked toward Walden’s Pond, Malia babbling about something that couldn’t hold his interest. It wasn’t until she said, “Don’t you think it would be perfect?” that he finally snapped to attention.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Her lips twisted in annoyance but she repeated, “Don’t you think this would be the perfect place for our wedding. It’s the spot where you saved me from drowning when we were younger. You were such a hero that day and this place has such meaning for us. We could get married in the fall. It would be beautiful here.”

“Oh,” he said. Yes, it would be beautiful. He could almost see Malia walking toward him on William’s arm in all her wedding finery, and suddenly Stiles couldn’t breathe. He sat down on a nearby fallen log and put his head between his legs, trying to force air into his lungs.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” Malia asked.

“I can’t…I can’t…” Stiles tried to force out but he couldn’t catch his breath.

“What? Can’t what?” she asked as she sat beside him, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

He looked at her and begged with his eyes for her understanding, “I _can’t_.”

She stiffened and then jumped up, before walking toward the water with arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. Stiles snapped out of his panic attack and chased after her.

“Malia, please,” he begged, placing his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off.

“Don’t,” she replied.

“I want to explain—”

“I said _don’t_!” Malia snapped with a bitter anger he didn’t know she was capable of. She turned to face him and he expected to see outrage. Instead she looked at him like he was a complete stranger.

“You see,” she began, “I’ve been doing some thinking. I’m only nineteen. Granted, most girls are married at my age, but I haven’t seen enough of the world yet, and to be frank, I’m not ready to settle down right now. In fact, I’ve decided to take Peter up on his offer and move to New York to live with him.”

“Malia…” Stiles said.

“I’m sorry I led you on, Stiles, but I’m afraid I can’t marry you. Perhaps you’ll be able to forgive me someday.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Stiles said, knowing the words were nowhere near adequate for the pain he had caused her.

She nodded and left him standing by the water.

~*~

Derek came home from the post office to see the buggy outside being loaded with Malia’s luggage and his heart sank. Were Malia and Stiles leaving town already? Then he noticed that it was only Malia’s travel trunks. Stile was nowhere to be seen. He hurried over to his family. Malia was kissing the babies Isaac and Cora held before hugging their mother tightly.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Awkward silence fell upon the group until their mother said, “Come along Isaac and Cora, let’s sample some of that delicious jam Jennifer made yesterday.”

They left the two siblings alone and Derek said, “You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” Malia said, her eyes puffy from crying.

“I don’t understand. You just got here. I figured you and Stiles would be married here near your family.”

“Oh that,” Malia said, waving a hand. “That’s over with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I called off the engagement. I’ve decided to expand my horizons. Peter’s wanted me to live with him for awhile. Now that he’s finally married and settled down, I thought it would be nice to get to know him and his wife a bit. And New York City does sound like an exciting place to live.”

“But what about Stiles? You can’t just leave him.”

“I don’t love him,” Malia said, the small tremble of her chin betraying her lie. “When I marry, it’s going to be to someone I completely adore and who completely adores me in return.”

Derek shook his head in confusion. Stiles and Malia _did_ adore each other. He didn’t understand what happened.

“When will you be back?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Malia admitted, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I _will_ be back.”

“Malia…”

Suddenly, Malia lost the bravado she was trying to display. Her shoulders slumped and for just a brief second, Derek saw the complete heartbreak on her face as she said, “I tried to possess something that could never belong to me.” And then, as if remembering herself, she said, “I loved living in France and being just a short drive away from Paris. New York will do wonders for me. Stiles wants to stay in Beacon Hills. We want different things out of life so this really is for the best.”

She turned toward the buggy where their father was waiting for her. She stopped before she got in and turned back to Derek. “You’re not a fool, are you, Derek?”

He smiled sadly at that. “I have been in the past, but hopefully I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“Good,” she said, seemingly satisfied. “Because only a fool would throw away the same gift twice.”

With that, Malia nodded at him and hopped in the carriage. He watched her go until the buggy disappeared. He couldn’t put into words the strange feelings he had inside him. He was saddened to see his sister go, but he also felt something akin to hope.

No…it was without question hope. Derek took a deep breath and smelled the clean air. The darkness that he seemed to be shrouded in since he rejected Stiles so long ago dissipated before his eyes and he felt strangely giddy. He ran across the road and banged on the door of the Stilinski home.

The sheriff answered, giving Derek a wary look. “Derek? Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Stiles.”

“He’s not here. Last I saw him, he was headed into the woods with your sister. Should I be concerned?”

“No, everything is fine,” Derek said before turning and running straight into the forest. He followed the path they used to run until he came to Walden’s Pond. He looked around but he didn’t see Stiles anywhere. Taking a few short gulps of air to catch his breath, he finally turned toward the cliffs and ran as fast as he could. When he got to their old hangout, his side was in stitches, but to his ever loving relief, Sitles was there. He was sitting on a small boulder but jumped to his feet when he saw Derek.

“Derek?”

Derek held up his pointer finger as he forced air into his lungs. When he was finally able to breathe normally he opened with, “I heard Malia ended things.”

Stiles’ lips twitched. “Yep, she dumped me but good.”

“She said you wanted different things. She said you wanted to stay in Beacon Hills.”

“Malia said a lot.”

“Is it true? Do you want to stay in Beacon Hills?”

Stiles shrugged. “Either that or I’ll go back to France.”

“No,” Derek said so quickly Stiles looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Cora will be moving back to Los Angeles soon and Malia’s on her way to New York. Don’t you leave too.”

“What’s here for me?”

“Me,” Derek replied and there was no mistaking the look of shock on Stiles’ face. Derek hurried to plead his case, “I was such an idiot to let you go, but I was afraid…”

He paused, unsure how to explain why he acted the way he did so that Stiles would understand.

“Of what, Derek?” Stiles said impatiently.

 Derek took a deep breath and began, “When I was a young boy, I developed a crush on a friend, but when I started to reveal my feelings to him, he said that they were an abomination. He told me a story of two men who were whipped and killed for loving each other and after that conversation, our friendship was never the same. Then I met you and we started sharing intimacies and bad things kept happening. I thought it was punishment. I let that one conversation warp my relationship with you and I’ll never forgive myself.”

“So what’s changed your mind now?” Stiles asked taking a cautious step toward him.

“I met a friend in San Francisco who was like us. He had lost so much but he wasn’t afraid to be who he was. He said he wouldn’t live his life in fear, and I realized that’s what I’d been doing. I couldn’t live that way anymore either.”

“Ethan,” Stiles said and Derek nodded. Stiles bit his lower lip before he said, “Did you love him?”

“No, I love you,” Derek replied, causing Stiles to suck in a breath. Derek ignored his stunned expression as he continued, “My aunt left me Plumfield and my mother suggested I turn it into a school. I remember you saying you wanted to be a teacher. I could give you a job. It won’t pay nearly what you’re probably making now, especially not until we get some students enrolled, but it does come with free room and board.”

“You want me to live at Plumfield and teach at your school,” Stiles said shakily.

“Yes, though there is a catch to the living arrangements.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d be living there, too,” Derek said. Stiles stared at him for a long moment and then finally, his mouth quirked up. It was barely noticeable but it was enough. He moved within touching distance of Stiles and clasped his cheeks in his hands.

“I lost you once before. I can’t lose you again. Please say you’ll stay,” Derek begged.

And then he kissed him. Stiles held himself back at first and then he relaxed into the kiss, clinging to Derek in a way that made him want to weep relieved tears.

When they finally broke apart, Stiles said through smiling lips, “People will talk, you know.”

“Since when does a Hale care what people think?” Derek responded.

Stiles laughed. “That sounds like something Laura would say.”

“That’s because she did,” Derek teased, thinking how happy his sister would be for him. He pulled Stiles to him for one more kiss before letting him go. He needed to hear Stiles’ answer.

“What do you say?” Derek asked. “Will you have me?”

Stiles grinned so brightly Derek’s breath caught. He leaned forward and whispered against Derek’s lips.

“With all my heart.”

 

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Historical Notes - Stanford didn't form until about 20 years after this story takes place. The October 21, 1868 earthquake really did happen. I realized I put Derek in San Francisco right around the time it hit, so I put it in the story.
> 
> Terms:  
> Inexpressibles – trousers  
> Tot-hunting – prowling for men/women
> 
> **I'm[myfandomlife](www.myfandomlife.tumblr.com) on tumblr.**


End file.
